That Brave Old Coon.


TUNE — "The American Star."

Wake, Whigs, from your slumbers, oppression's cloud gathers,
And treachery darkens the hue of the sky;
Rise up with the spirit which nerved your brave fathers,
Which thrilled in each breast, and which flashed from each eye;
Bring the hearts that will meet the stern onset undaunted,
Bring the freemen who crave but the contest as boon;
Bring the spirit which wide o'er your banners once flaunted,
Bring the spirit of forty, the same brave old coon.

Though the being raised up in the strength of your power,
Now scorns the proud spirits who placed him on high,
In his palace he sits, but the thing of an hour,


And trembles e'en now, as your curses sweep by;
Speak out the bold tones of your manly defiance,
Let treachery know 'twill be punished full soon;
In the truth of our freemen we still have reliance;
We'll conquer again with that same brave old coon.

See! our eagle again rises up in his gladness;
Again the sun gilds his magnificent form.
Up, Whigs, from your apathy; throw off your sadness;
Prepare for the battle with energies warm.
We've a cause true and noble which needs our assistance;
We've a man pure and bright as the heavens at noon;
With them, foes and traitors shall meet our resistance,
And quail once again at the same brave old coon.

One blow for your country, its laws and its honor;
One blow for prosperity blighted and fled;
One blow at the miscreant preying upon her;
For the charter of liberty, broken and dead.
From the West the loud voices of freemen are swelling;
Raise, raise the glad shout in harmonious tune;
For our hope once again the loud chorus is telling,
I' the "Farmer of Ashland," that same brave old coon.