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A nigger on its ridge-pole sat,
From ear to ear a-grinning.
Gray H——d heard oa nights the sound
Of rail-cars onward faring;
Right over Democratic ground
The iron horse came tearing.
A flag waved o'er that spectral train,
As high as Pittsfield steeple;
Its emblem was a broken chain;
Its motto: ‘To the people! ’
I dreamed that Charley took his bed,
With Hale for his physician;
His daily dose an old “unread
And unreferred” petition.1
There Hayes and Tuck as nurses sat,
As near as near could be, man;
They leeched him with the ‘ Democrat;’
They blistered with the ‘ Freeman.’
Ah! grisly portents! What avail
Your terrors of forewarning?
We wake to find the nightmare Hale
Astride our breasts at morning!
From Portsmouth lights to Indian stream
Our foes their throats are trying;
The very factory-spindles seem
To mock us while they're flying.
The hills have bonfires; in our streets
Flags flout us in our faces;
The newsboys, peddling off their sheets,
Are hoarse with our disgraces.
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