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I wind it up now, I tink you say 'tis time, sir, You got no reason, but you got plenty ob rhyme,
sir, I'segwan to go away, but first I leave behind me. What ebery brack man wish, in dis happy land
ob liberty ; Here's success to Rice, to Dixon, and to Lester, May dey neber want a friend, nor a hoe-cake to
bake, sir.
Spoken.—Rice, Dixon, an' Lester, de proud supporters ob be brack drama, may dey neber, want de encouragement de greatness ob de subject demands
CAR'LINA.
An Original Song, now first published.
Down in old Car'lina,
Oh, I lubs Car'lina ! For 'neath her shunny skies
My Molly dear was born : And dar I fus beheld her
Dancing on de lawn, As sprightly and as graceful
As alubly little fawn,
Down in ole Car'lina.
Downe in ole Car'lina !
Oh, I lubs Car'lina ! For dar's de same green wood
W air and
At de closing ob de day |
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