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Michigan BRANCH COUNTY
And that night when the boys carne home from town,
And said they guessed they'd go, How the incense of love on the altar we burned,
To save a nation's fame from woe.
I guess we know the price it's cost
Our country's flag to save; A crippled boy, yon marble slab,
And an unknown southern grave.
Yet, the fifty years we've just finished to-day,
Are fuller of good to man Than centuries that went before
This period began.
We've seen the sickle give way to the reaper,
The flail to steam thresher yield; We've seen the forests melt away
To the rich and golden field.
We've seen the oceans bound together
With three great iron bands, And 'neath Atlantic, the lightning takes
Our thought to foreign lands.
But Jane, they've gone and done it now,
I don't know what'll come next, For they've got a concern, you can talk to Detroit
With a hundred miles betwixt.
And when I read in the papers,
About talkin' over wires, I said to myself, "that's nonsense,
Them papers, like lawyers, are liars. "
But when I helloed at that hole in the box,
, With that black fixin put to my ear, I heard Deacon Jones, twenty miles away, As plain as though he were here.
But bright genius will yet pace off
Greater strides, in the next fifty years,
Than those now marking the long between A train of cars and the yoke of steers.
BRANCH COUNTY MICHIGAN
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