THE FARMER OF KENTUCKY.
Written for the Clay Minstrel.
Tune — The Hunters of Kentucky.
Ye honest Whigs and voters true,
Who’d save your nation’s glory,
Come listen and I’ll tell you who
Can keep her name in story.
‘Tis freedom’s agriculturalist,
Whose crops are always lucky.
The last, the greatest, and the best,
The farmer of Kentucky.
Oh, Kentucky, the farmer of Kentucky,
For years he left his western home.
To work on freedom’s farm, sir,
There he manured our nation’s loam,
With his rich Clay so warm, sir.
He made the nation’s plants grow tall.
And freedom’s seeds grow lucky.
And the harvests they were capitol (capital)
Through the harvest of Kentucky. Oh, &c.
But farmer Clay saw that the lands
Were till’d and worked in vain, sir,
For Tyler and his cross grained hands,
Eat all the people’s grain, sir.
They cropped the crops ere they were ripe.
And made the harvest trucky,
It gave the land the Tyler grippe.
And troubled old Kentucky, Old, &c.
Now Uncle Sam at this grows warm,
And freedom’s lost her temper,
They call on Clay to rule their farm,
And cure the land’s distemper.
Let March then be his moving day,
For freedom’s cause most lucky.
We’ll by our polls will carry Clay,
To the white house from Kentucky,
Oh, Kentucky, &c. s. s. s.
“The Farmer of Kentucky,” (sometimes “”The Farmer of Ashland”) is none other than Henry Clay. I do wonder if the writer here had entirely thought through calling Clay warm manure.
“Trucky” here means “of or pertaining to small scale agriculture.”
The Tyler Grippe was the influenza epidemic during Tyler’s first year in office.
Inaugurations were in March in those days.
Tomorrow: Old Tariff Harry