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Andrew Jackson; Or, The Bold and Tough Old Hickory.
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TUNE -- "Fine Old English Gentleman."
I'll sing to you a tough new song, made by a tough old pate,
Of a tough old chief of Liberty, from Carolina's state,
He there sprang from the root of freedom's hickory tree so great,
And prov'd so tough in freedom's cause he's called unto this date.
The bold and tough old hickory,
The hero of Orleans.
While quite a sapling he branched forth our freedom to defend,
Though once a tyrant tied his boughs, his trunk they ne'er could bend,
He scorned to brush oppression's boots when once a captive low,
But lived with his tough hick'ry limbs to sweep the darling foe.
This bold and tough old hickory,
The hero of Orleans.
When red men rushed upon our homes fierce as the mountain flood,
And gleaming knife and tomahawk were red with whitemen's blood,
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He crushed the sanguinary horde on Tallapoosa's shore,And old chiefs think they still hear in the torrent's angry roar,
The bold and tough old hickory,
The hero of Orleans.
And when Britannia's veterans bold at New Orleans drew sword,
And the prize -- "Booty and Beauty" was their boasting battle word,
His motto was the nobler prize, "Honor and Liberty,"
And the flower of British oaks dropp'd down before fair freedom's tree.
The bold and tough old hickory, &c.
Next in the nation's capitol he stood the nation's shield,
His valor and his wisdom there shone bright as in the field,
Within the South he nullified the voice of civil war,
And forced due honor to our flag from nations near and far,
This noble tough old hickory,
The hero of Orleans.
At last the soldier and the sage within his cot we see,
Like Cincinnatus praying for the land he help'd to free,
There as some star more glorious shines before its light retires,
The noble trunk burned bright away in freedom's holy fires.
Of this bold and tough old hickory, &c.