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And now the puir man's vote, Jem,
Ye're speerin for, I trow ; But, troth, I think ye'll wait a wee,
Auld Jamie Buck, my Jo.
Auld Buck, ye doug-faced noodle,
We ken a lad or twa Wha'll by the Constitution stand,
The Union and the Law ; Fremont and Dayton are the chiels
For whom we mean to go ; And you may bide at home the whiles,
Auld Jamie -Buck, my Jo. |
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RALLYING SONG. Tune—** Marseillaies Hymn."
Behold ! the furious storm is rolling,
Which Border-Fiends, confederates, raise, The Dogs of War, let loose, are howling,
And lo ! our infant cities blaze. And shall we calmly view the ruin,
While lawless force with giant stride,
Spreads desolation far and wide. In guiltless blood his hands imbruing ?
Arise, arise, ye brave ! And let our war-cry be Free Speech, Free Press, Free Soil, Free Men, Fre-mont and Victory !
Oh, Liberty ! can he resign thee
Who once has felt thy generous flame ?
Can threats subdue, or bolts confine thee— Or whips thy noble spirit tame ?
No ! by the heavens bright bending o'er us ! We've called our captain to the van— Behold the hour—behold the man !
Oh, wise and valiant, go before us ! Then let the shout again Ring out from sea to sea,
Free Speech, Free Press, Free Soil, Free Men, Fre-mont and Victory ! |
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