Then hurrah for the Minstrel band.
I will speak first of one who we loved in the past,
He’d a heart that was noble and brave—
Nelse Seymour, who never refused his last dime,
If he thought you from hunger would save.
I hear his praises sounding, sounding,
In notes loud and clear through the land—
The tall Son of York, he died at his work,
And the pride of the Minstrel Band!
And the pride!—and the pride!