The melody of an old Irish drinking song, "Old Rosin the Beau" (also spelled "Bow") has been used for many, many folk songs, including this political song from 1844:
November election is coming,to arms, all true Democrats, rise; Fear not the loud braying and drumming, In which all Whig argument lies. All over the country, the rally, Of Democrats gladdens the land; They gather from mountain and valley-- Whole armies are on every hand. Our Polk is the Joshua blowing, the blast that to vicotyr calls; Around the last time he is going, And tumbling are Whiggery's walls. The sun in his course need not tarry, For Polk to encompass his foe; One moment to charge - and Old Harry Is sent to the regions below. The Whigs obtained power and station, By thousands of promises made; Deceived and defrauded the nation, And its best interests betrayed. To millions they promised in '40, Roast beef and two dollars per day; And many a working man thought he Might trust in the promise of Clay. But when the election was over, Hear how the duped voter laments; The lead nags were rolling in clover-- The others outside of the fence.
Last update: April 19, 1998