 | The poetical works of Samuel Woodworth |  |
THE HUNTERS OF KENTUCKY.
Ye gentlemen and ladies fair,
Who grace this famous city,
Just listen, if ye've time to spare,
While I rehearse a ditty;
And for the opportunity,
Conceive yourselves quite lucky,
For 't is not often that you see,
A hunter from Kentucky.
Oh! Kentucky, the hunters of Kentucky,
The hunters of Kentucky.
Who grace this famous city,
Just listen, if ye've time to spare,
While I rehearse a ditty;
And for the opportunity,
Conceive yourselves quite lucky,
For 't is not often that you see,
A hunter from Kentucky.
Oh! Kentucky, the hunters of Kentucky,
The hunters of Kentucky.
We are a hardy free-born race,
Each man to fear a stranger,
Whate'er the game, we join in chase,
Despising toil and danger;
And if a daring foe annoys,
Whate'er his strength and forces,
We'll show him that Kentucky boys
Are “alligator horses.”
Oh! Kentucky, &c.
Each man to fear a stranger,
Whate'er the game, we join in chase,
Despising toil and danger;
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Whate'er his strength and forces,
We'll show him that Kentucky boys
Are “alligator horses.”
Oh! Kentucky, &c.
I s'pose you 've read it in the prints,
How Packenham attempted
To make Old Hickory Jackson wince,
But soon his scheme repented;
For we with rifles ready cocked,
Thought such occasion lucky,
And soon around the general flocked
The hunters of Kentucky.
Oh! Kentucky, &c.
How Packenham attempted
To make Old Hickory Jackson wince,
But soon his scheme repented;
For we with rifles ready cocked,
Thought such occasion lucky,
And soon around the general flocked
The hunters of Kentucky.
Oh! Kentucky, &c.
You 've heard, I s'pose, how New Orleans
Is famed for wealth and beauty—
There 's girls of every hue, it seems,
From snowy white to sooty:
So Packenham he made his brags,
If he in fight was lucky,
He 'd have their girls and cotton bags,
In spite of Old Kentucky.
Oh! Kentucky, &c.
Is famed for wealth and beauty—
There 's girls of every hue, it seems,
From snowy white to sooty:
So Packenham he made his brags,
If he in fight was lucky,
He 'd have their girls and cotton bags,
In spite of Old Kentucky.
Oh! Kentucky, &c.
But Jackson, he was wide awake,
And was n't scared at trifles;
For well he knew what aim we take,
With our Kentucky rifles;
So he led us down to Cypress swamp,
The ground was low and mucky;
There stood John Bull, in martial pomp,
And here was Old Kentucky.
Oh! Kentucky, &c.
And was n't scared at trifles;
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With our Kentucky rifles;
So he led us down to Cypress swamp,
The ground was low and mucky;
There stood John Bull, in martial pomp,
And here was Old Kentucky.
Oh! Kentucky, &c.
A bank was raised to hide our breast,
Not that we thought of dying,
But then we always like to rest,
Unless the game is flying;
Behind it stood our little force—
None wished it to be greater,
For every man was half a horse,
And half an alligator.
Oh! Kentucky, &c.
Not that we thought of dying,
But then we always like to rest,
Unless the game is flying;
Behind it stood our little force—
None wished it to be greater,
For every man was half a horse,
And half an alligator.
Oh! Kentucky, &c.
They did not let our patience tire,
Before they showed their faces—
We did not choose to waste our fire,
So snugly kept our places;
But when so near we saw them wink,
We thought it time to stop them;
And 't would have done you good, I think.
To see Kentucky pop them.
Oh! Kentucky, &c.
Before they showed their faces—
We did not choose to waste our fire,
So snugly kept our places;
But when so near we saw them wink,
We thought it time to stop them;
And 't would have done you good, I think.
To see Kentucky pop them.
Oh! Kentucky, &c.
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They found at last, 't was vain to fight
Where lead was all their booty,
And so they wisely took to flight,
And left us all the beauty.
And now, if danger e'er annoys,
Remember what our trade is,
Just send for us Kentucky boys,
And we'll protect you, ladies.
Oh! Kentucky, the hunters of Kentucky,
The hunters of Kentucky.
Where lead was all their booty,
And so they wisely took to flight,
And left us all the beauty.
And now, if danger e'er annoys,
Remember what our trade is,
Just send for us Kentucky boys,
And we'll protect you, ladies.
Oh! Kentucky, the hunters of Kentucky,
The hunters of Kentucky.
| The poetical works of Samuel Woodworth | |