That Southern Wagon


H. DE MARSAN , Publisher, 54 Chatham Street, New-York

That Southern Wagon.

Jeff Davis built a wagon, and on it put his name;
And Beauregard was driver of Secession’s ugly frame;
The horse he would get hungry, as most of horses do:
They had to keep the collar tight, to keep from pulling through.

They asked Kentuck to take a ride, she said: the horse is blind;
She shook her head at seeing Tennessee jump on behind;
But Jeff assured her: all was right, the wagon it was new;
Missouri winked at Beauregard and said: it would not do!

Old Scott brought out his wagon—one that had run for years—
They caught Old Union, hitched him up, and greased the running gears.
Says Scott: McClellan, you’re the Boy I want to fill up my place.
So, take the reins, and get the folks, and give Secesh a race.

They took the broken wagon back, and put in all new spokes;
Secesh went out to Old Kentuck, to tell to all the folks;
Old Union started after, and he made the welkin ring,
When he ran into Secession, at a little place: Mill-Spring.

Old Union got his dander up, and passed him under way;
He ran into Fort-Donaldson, but didn’t go to stay;
Tennessee fell out the wagon, and the balance of them cried,
And asked McClellan, as he passed: say, mister, let us ride.

They went from there to Nashville, and there they’ll change the scenes;
They’ll grease the axles, turn Old Union’s head towards New-Orleans;
They’ll stop at Memphis, feed the hoss, and then they’ll let him go
To drag Secesh’s rotten frame to the Gulf of Mexico!

Now Buckner he’s gone up the spout, and Floyd has seen sights,
And all the boys that went awa’ with Buckner for their rights:
Ah! boys, you’ve seen the Elephant: I hope it won’t be long
Till you’ll be singing out with joy: the Union right or wrong!

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