Did Ever You Hear of the Farmer?

85

"'Tis my delight," &c.
[An old song altered.]

Did ever you hear of the farmer
Who lives up in the West?
Of all the men for President
The wisest and the best.
To put him in the capitol
We've found a capital way.
Oh! we'll sing a Harry Clay song by night,
And beat his foes by day.

CHORUS. — Oh! we'll sing, &c.

Come all, of every station,
The rich as well as poor;
For all the farmer had a place,
Who ever sought his door;
He ever had an open hand,
Nor turned the poor away;
Oh! we'll sing a Harry Clay song by night,
And beat his foes by day.

Oh! we'll sing, &c.

Come, all the folks of every age,
The old as well as young;
There's not in all Columbia
A name more justly sung;
The truest of the true is he,

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The nation's hope and stay.
Oh! we'll sing a Harry Clay song by night,
And beat his foes by day.

Oh! we'll sing, &c.

When gathered into council,
Among the wise and great,
He never thought to serve himself,
But wisely served the state;
A statesman he of vigor yet,
Although his locks are gray;
Oh! we'll sing a Harry Clay song by night,
And beat his foes by day.

Oh! we'll sing, &c.

There's news about election,
Borne on in every gale;
A shout from every place is heard
About the plough and flail;
And freemen's voices gladly join
To catch the sounds so gay;
Oh! we'll sing a Harry Clay song by night,
And beat his foes by day.

Oh! we'll sing, &c.

Then raise the Harry Clay banner
Upon the outward walls;
The word is rolling trumpet-tongued;
OUR HARRY'S RIVAL FALLS.
The cry of victory rends the air —
It swells the joyous lay;
Oh! we'll sing a Harry Clay song by night,
And beat his foes by day.

Oh! we'll sing, &c.