|Share page||Visit Us On FB|
198 THE REBELS.
All strutting, the standard of Satan beside, And honest names using, their black deeds to hide. With their hunting-shirts, and rifle-guns.
J'his perjured banditti, now ruin this land, And o'er its poor people claim lawless command,
With their hunting-shirts, and rifle-guns. Their pasteboard dollars, prove a common curse, They don't chink like silver and gold in our purse; With nothing their leaders have paid their debts ofl*, Their honor's, dishonor, and justice they scoff.
With their hunting-shirts, and rifle-guns.
For one lawful ruler, many tyrants we've got, Who force young and old to their wars, to be shot,
With their hunting-shirts, and rifle-guns. Our good king, God speed him! never used men so, We then could speak, act, and like freemen could go; But committees enslave us, our Liberty's gone, Our trade and church murder'd; our country's undone,
By hunting-shirts, and rifle-guns.
Come take up your glasses, each true loyal heart, And may every rebel meet his due desert, With his hunting-shirt, and rifle-gun.