Now warn’t thet a system wuth pains in presarvin’,
  Where the people found jints an’ their friens done the carvin’,—­
  Where the many done all o’ their thinkin’ by proxy,
  An’ were proud on’t ez long ez’t wuz christened Democ’cy,—­
  Where the few let us sap all o’ Freedom’s foundations,
  Ef you called it reformin’ with prudence an’ patience,
  An’ were willin’ Jeff’s snake-egg should hetch with the rest,
  Ef you writ “Constitootional” over the nest? 
  But it’s all out o’ kilter, (’t wuz too good to last,)
  An’ all jes’ by J.D.’s perceedin’ too fast;
  Ef he’d on’y hung on for a month or two more,
  We’d ha’ gut things fixed nicer ’n they hed ben before: 
  Afore he drawed off an’ lef all in confusion,
  We wuz safely intrenched in the ole Constitootion,
  With an outlyin’, heavy-gun, casemated fort
  To rake all assailants,—­I mean th’ S.J.  Court. 
  Now I never ’II acknowledge (nut ef you should skin me)
  ’T wuz wise to abandon sech works to the in’my,
  An’ let him fin’ out thet wut scared him so long,
  Our whole line of argyments, lookin’ so strong,
  All our Scriptur’ an’ law, every the’ry an’ fac’,
  Wuz Quaker-guns daubed with Pro-slavery black. 
  Why, ef the Republicans ever should git
  Andy Johnson or some one to lend ’em the wit
  An’ the spunk jes’ to mount Constitootion an’ Court
  With Columbiad guns, your real ekle-rights sort,
  Or drill out the spike from the ole Declaration
  Thet can kerry a solid shot clearn roun’ creation,
  We’d better take maysures for shettin’ up shop,
  An’ put off our stock by a vendoo or swop.

  But they wun’t never dare tu; you ’ll see ’em in Edom
  ‘Fore they ventur’ to go where their doctrines ’ud lead ’em: 
  They ‘ve ben takin’ our princerples up ez we dropt ’em,
  An’ thought it wuz terrible ’cute to adopt ’em;
  But they’ll fin’ out ’fore long thet their hope ‘s ben deceivin’ ’em,
  An’ thet princerples ain’t o’ no good, ef you b’lieve in ’em;
  It makes ’em tu stiff for a party to use,
  Where they’d ough’ to be easy ‘z an ole pair o’ shoes. 
  Ef we say ’n our pletform thet all men are brothers,
  We don’t mean thet some folks ain’t more so ’n some others;
  An’ it’s wal understood thet we make a selection,
  An’ thet brotherhood kin’ o’ subsides arter ’lection. 
  The fust thing for sound politicians to larn is,
  Thet Truth, to dror kindly in all sorts o’ harness,
  Mus’ be kep’ in the abstract,—­for, ’come to apply it,
  You’re ept to hurt some folks’s interists by it. 
  Wal, these ’ere Republicans (some on ’em) acs
  Ez though gineral mexims ’ud suit speshle facs;
  An’ there’s where we ’ll nick ’em, there ’s where they ’ll be lost: 
  For applyin’ your princerple’s wut makes it cost,
  An’ folks don’t want Fourth o’ July t’ interfere
  With the business-consarns o’ the rest o’ the year,
  No more ‘n they want Sunday to pry an’ to peek
  Into wut they are doin’ the rest o’ the week.