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No. 86. The Bondholder and the Soldier.

TUNE: "Susannah."

"The times are hard!" the people cry;
"We have no work or bread;
Our humble homes are swept away
From o'er our children's head."

O bondholder! fear you no wrath divine?
That humble and peaceful home,
Bondholder, once was mine.

To win that home I bared my arm,
I breasted many a storm;
My lovely wife, too, lost her health
And bowed her lovely form.

O bondholder! by stars that o'er me shine,
That humble home you robbed me of
Shall soon again be mine!

You sent me out to meet the foe
And staid yourself behind,
And while you rolled in splendor grand
I long in prison pined.

O bondholder! don't think me so supine,
The greenbacks that you paid me then
Shall surely now be mine!

We met the foe on many fields
And drove them to the sea;
We thought the Union then was saved
And all our people free.

O bondholder! fear you no wrath divine?
The blows we dealt on Southern heads
Shall surely fall on thine.