Election Songs

Air: The Campbells are Coming

Come up to the polls! there is work to be
done;
Come up in your strength, and the battle is
won.
With our Clay for a leader, then enter the fight;
The people are rising, resistless in might;

Then hurrah, boys! hurrah, boys! the truth

will prevail;
The custom-house slaves are beginning to quail;
The elections have told them their race is near
run:
Hurrah, boys! hurrah, boys! the battle is won!
 

Down, down with the rulers who've ruined the
land,
Who have crushed all our hopes with a merci-
less hand;
The men who would make our loved country
the same
As serf-peopled Russia, or tyrannized Spain,
Who would rule our loved land with imperial
sway,
And give for our labor but sixpence per day,—
Van Buren, Buchanan, and Benton, the
knaves—
Such are but fit to be rulers of slaves.

Arouse, then, ye freemen, at Liberty's call!
Arouse, in your glory, and out with them all!
Already they falter, already they reel;
The signs of defeat they 're beginning to feel;
One blow from your hands lays them low in
the dust,
Arise in your ardor, and conquer you must;
Then be true to your country, to principle true,
And bold Harry Clay will be faithful to you!