The Farmer of North Bend.

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TUNE -- "Auld Lang Syne."

Can grateful freemen slight his claims,
Who bravely did defend,
Their lives and fortunes on the Thames,
The Farmer of North Bend?
The Farmer of North Bend, my boys,
The Farmer of North, Bend,
We'll give a right good hearty vote
To the Farmer of North Bend.

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The trump of Fame in storied song
The Patriot's deeds shall tell,
And Freedom's voice the strain prolong,
The gladsome chorus swell,
The gladsome chorus swell, my boys.
The gladsome chorus swell,
We'll join to-night in merry song
The gladsome chorus swell.

The Chieftian heard the stirring drum,
And bent his soldier's bow,
But victor soon -- he hastened home,
His farming fields to mow,
His farming fields to mow, my boys,
His farming fields to mow,
Exchanged the sabre for the scythe,
His farming fields to mow.

Though youthful valor bravely won
The laurel for his brow,
Yet victory's own triumphant son
Now holds the Yeoman's plough.
Now holds the Yeoman's plough, my boys,
Now holds the Yeoman's plough,
And soon we'll try his trusty hand
To hold the Nation's plough.

Now hear the note, his country's call,
From the hill-tops and the shore,
It comes from camp, and cot, and hall,
And all the valleys o'er.
And all the valleys o'er, my boys,
And all the valleys o'er,
It calls him to the rescue, boys,
From all the valleys o'er.

The hero who, long years ago,
Once wore the warrior's mail,

22

Now comes to beat the Yeoman's foe,
A Farmer with his flail.
A Farmer with his flail, my boys,
A Farmer with his flail,
And they'll get a right gude threshing yet
From the Farmer with his flail.

Then cheer we up, my boys, to-night,
A helping hand we lend,
And pledge the old Key Stone to night,
To the Farmer of North Bend.
To the Farmer of North Bend, my boys,
To the Farmer of North Bend,
We'll pledge the old Key Stone to-night
To the Farmer of North Bend.