Hiram Ulysses, Come Home

Air: Father, Come Home

O Hiram Ulysses, come back to your dad,
For he has more wood-hauling to do;
Impeachment's "gone up," and Ben wade is stark mad,
And declares it's all over with you.
The Chicago Convention will help you no more,
The Methodist Conference won't pray;
There's the ugliest news from the Oregon shore,
And—in short—there's the dickens to pay!
Come home, Come home, come home,
Sweet Hiram Ulysses, come home.


John Bingham has gone to the Red Sulphur Springs,
And Stanton can't "stick" anymore;
Old Thad in despair, to impeachment still clings,
While Sumner, the dandy, feels sore.
Ben Butler is keeping an eye on the spoons,
But the landlords all know his " stronghold,"
So he can't get a chance to play the old tunes,
Of the New Orleans silver and gold.


Come home, come home, come home,
Dear Hiram Ulysses, come home.

I've a horse in the circus for you and Colfax—
'Tis the horse that you rode in the South—
The monkey stands ready to leap on your hacks,
And there's whiskey to pour in your mouth;
So Hiram, sweet Hiram, don't feel very bad
When you learn that my tidings are true;
You're better at home with cigars and your dad,
For the White House ain't waiting for you.


Come home, come home, come home,
Brave Hiram Ulysses, come home


The lyrics are from a presidential campaign song written in opposition to Ulysses S. Grant