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For o'er Siogee's ice With brindled wolves all harnessed three and three, High seated on a sledge made in a trice On mount Agiocoohook of hickory. He lashed end reeled, and sung right jollily And once upon a car of flaming fire The dreadful Indian shook with fear, to see The King of Penacook, his Chief, his Sire, Ride flaming up towards heaven, than any mountain higher.
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