Life — September 6, 1900 — page 7: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

-— —s. superlative poetical and political quality of our songs: being also after the manner of that noble Republican poet, Robert Burns, in the same poem : Life’s “Campaign Song Bureau.” LEE is prepared to furnish, at bargain prices, a large number of campaign songs left over from the last election, for the use of either party during the coming election. The two following, specially prepared for the ensuing campaign, are inserted as samples of the REPUBLICAN Campaign Sonc—‘‘ Teppy RooseveLt.” To be sung to the air of ‘Afton Water,”’ the words Talk swiftly, sweet Teddy, we love thy loud brays ; Talk awiftly, we'll sing thee a song in thy praise ; While Bryan's asleep in far Lincoln, ‘tis best To talk swiftly, aweet Teddy, disturb not his rest. Rough riders, whose echoes resound to the shore! -LIFE- 187 Ie ath rently y peg Ye wild, whooping Gold birds, all kicking once more! Thou green-seeming Pop, thy loud screaming forbear! _-Rodnson Crusoe: a POOTPRINT—NEAVENG! THIS ISLAND MUST BE INKABITED. Disturb not, we beg, Ted’s political tear. How lofty, sweet Teddy, thy strenuous life! Een Mark Hanna felt in the course of the strife ; And daily we wonder, as Platt rises high What plum thou'll want next i? the political pie. How pleasant to feel that a fighter is blest, And death in the far-away Philippines best! Our battle-cry's ever “ In God is our Trust With the added proviso, ‘ Expansion or bust !”” Thy erystal talk, Teddy, how senseless it glides And winds thro’ thy hat, that still with us abides ; How wanton thy words thro thy snowy teeth flow In New York, Oklahoma or Porto Rico! (Repeat first stanza as often as seems desirable.) DEMOCRATIC Campaign Sonc—To CoLoNnEL BRYAN. In form and manner, the following ode is modelled after BUT WANTS THAT LITTLE LOxa.” late Percy Bysshe Shelley. It is hoped that this fact will make the poem particularly acceptable to the gentle readers and politicians of Tammany Hall. Hail to thee, blithe Bryan !—noble centre-rush, ‘That from Lincoln, or near it, pourest forth thy gush In profuse strains that never seem to hush. With thy talk of silver thou the gold bug rilest, With thy trusty platform thou the Pop beguilest, And smiling still dost talk, and talking ever, smilest. What tho’ Hill und Croker o’er thy choice made war, What tho’ thou hast felt the enmity of Hoar? Thou talkest still; and wilt talk evermore. By “the cross of gold,” on which we are undone, By the silver setting of expansion’s sun, By the sacred symbol of sixteen to one, By the wicked trusts, through which we lose our ‘ mon.”, We beg of thee, oh Bryan! that though wilt make a run as good as Aguinaldo’s, Whose race has just begun. With thy flow of language Hanna cannot vie, McKinley doesn't touch thee, ‘Teddy's se: Tho’ you can’t be President, still you can always try. (All join here, in chorus, in singing “Try, try again.”) Maida Castethun, a tie. A Repeater. DD *sFerrio MOTHER: My son, I have corrected you often for rapid eating. Now you have gobbled that banana at two bites; you will surely be ill, As punishment, you shall not go out to play. Penitent Soy: Well, ma, if I eat another banana nice and slow, mayn’t I go then? comicbooks.com