VOICE OF THE PEOPLE.
Air — “A life on the Ocean wave.”
List, list to the People’s cry,
Resounding o’er hill and dale,
In terror the Loco’s fly,
Like chaff on the winter’s gale.
The mountains are ringing the shout,
The valleys re-echo again.
And the rock-bound shores of the North
Are joyously swelling the strain.
Hark, hark, to the loud acclaim,
That comes from the distant West,
They call for the Son of Fame,
Their Clay — the greatest and best.
Hark, Hark! Hark, Hark!
Hark, Hark! to the distant West.
Arise, ye Whigs of the East,
‘Tis now the glorious day,
When all your votes should be cast
In support of Henry Clay.
The South is up in her strength,
Our cause will in triumph prevail
And the shout of a people free
Shall burthen the sweeping gale.
Like a whirlwind his fame has spread—
The mists have all cleared away —
The foe from the field has fled!
Then hurrah! for Henry Clay.
Hurrah for Henry Clay.
The Whigs should have worried less about the Democrats and more about the Liberty Party.
The Locos are the Democrats (who, at least this time around, didn’t fly far). After the disastrous (for the Whigs) election of 1852, the Whigs reconstituted as the Republicans in 1856. They lost in ’56 (to Ten Cent Jimmy Buchanan) but after that, between the American Civil War and the Great Depression, there were only two Democratic presidents.
“Burthen” is an old spelling of “burden.”
Tomorrow: The Clay Rally Cry