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HORACE GREELEY'S PET. 23
THE CONTRABAND'S LAMENT. Sung by S. S. Pitrdy.
I just come from de Souf to St. Louis to-day, Whar a nigger, dey tell me, can just "have his own way; I don't stop at de Planter's House, but a much better place, Whar de people dey all seem quite enchanted wid my face; And de ladies, in particular, say I'm Cupid, don't you see ? And de white folks of St. Louis am quite struck after me.
I really begins to think dat I've got a handsome face, And dis form it is possessed of symmetry and grace: Dere are niggers from de West and dere are niggers from
de gouf, And you all know a nigger's got a bery little mouf! But dere's one thing I observe in particular wid me— Dat de white folks of St. Louis am quite struck after me.
But dis gay and easy life is not suitable for me, For I was raised a nigger, and a nigger still must be; So, white folks, let me tell you, before I do depart, Don't let de cause of niggers so encircle round your heart: We are ever four millions now in numbers, don't you see ? And what could you do wid all of us, if we were all set free ?
HORACE GREELEY'S PET.
Sung by S. S. Purdy.
Come, all you noble white folks,
And listen to my song; I'm de pet of Horace Greeley,
And to de Tribune I belong. My musket I will shoulder,
And I'll march on to de fight, And I upon de tented field
Goes for Union, wrong or right.