U-ni-on--you an' I on!
It's time that you an' I were gone.
U-ni-on, are _you_ nigh on?
It's time we were there, and the fight were won;
O Old Samson! you never knew
What _this_ Sam's son, when he tries, can do;
Your jaw-bone made the enemy flee--
They shall walk jaw-bone from Tennessee.
U-ni-on--you an' I on!
It's time that you an' I were gone.
Reader, if the great call should come, drafting the whole North, why,
pack up your blankets and travel, light of heart, remembering that when
_you_ are there, the secession-pool of rebellion must 'dry up' in a
hurry.
Much has been said as to the degree of complicity in which the
confederates were guilty in stirring up savages against us. In a
'Secesh' poem which 'De Bow' declares to be among the best which belong
to the war, we find the following, which seems to have been written in
the Indian interest:
'Our women have hung their harps away,
And they scowl on your brutal bands,
While the nimble poignard dares the day
In their dear defiant hands;
They will strip their tresses to string our bows
Ere the Northern sun is set;
There's faith in their unrelenting woes,
There's life in the old land yet.'
Now it is very evident that if the author of the lyric was not
describing Indian squaws when he alluded to the 'scowling' females whose
'nimble poignards dare the day,' he certainly _ought_ to have been. But
the allusion to 'the bows,' settles the matter. Bows and arrows are not
used in the confederate army, though they are by Albert Pike's
Indians--enough said.
But if the secessionists _will_ come North, and hemp should give out, we
may find a new application, with a slight alteration to the verse in
question. For then our women of the North may
'Strip their tresses to string _your_ beaux.'
And serve 'em right, too. That's all. But really, if this be, in the
opinion of the first magazine of the South, one of the _best_ of
Southern poems, what _must_ the 'common sort' be?'