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Show 0 Ye Mountains High. O ye mountains high, where the clear blue sky Arches over the vales of the free, Where, the pure bretzes blow aud the clear streamlets How How I've longed to your bosom to ilee 1 ' O Zion ! dear Zion ! land of the free ; My own mountain home unto thee I have come, All my fond hopes are centred in thee. Though the great and the wise all thy beauties despise, To the humble and pure thou art dear ; Though the haughty may smile and the wicked revile, Yet we, love thy glad tidings to hear, O Zion ! dear Zion 1 home of the free ; Though thou wert forced to lly to thy chambers on hih Yet we'd share joy and sorrow with thee. In thy mountain retreat, God will strengthen thy feet On the necks of thy foes thou shalt tread ; Aud their silver and gold, as the Prophets fure'told, Shall be brought to adorn thy fair head. ' O Zion ! dear Zion ! home of the free ; Soon tby lowers shall bhiue wild a splendor divine Aud eternal thy glory shall be. ' The song above printed has been selected as the closing number of the program to be rendered on the 24th in Gunuiscn. Copies have been printed and will be distributed among the audience present that all who care may joic in the singing. |