John was thought both rich and great—
Dick so-so, but comfortable:
John lived at a splendid rate—
Coach and horses in his stable.
John could ride when Dick should walk—
(This excited people's talk!)—
For John's wealth, Dick's rugged health
Few would exchange if they were able!
Dick was friendly years ago—
With ingratitude John paid him:
Dick found this was always so
When John had a chance to aid him.
John still cut a brilliant dash,
While he could command the cash,
But for Dick, whom John would kick,
At last a change of luck has made him!
John, 'tis said, is "bound" to lose
Lots by rail, and 'bus, and cable!
And the banks his notes refuse,
Now they think his state unstable.
This may be a story strange
Of the bulls and bears on 'change,
Where the truth, in age and youth,
Is often a poetic fable!
King Cotton.
Old Cotton is king, boys—aha!
With his locks so fleecy and white!
He shines among kings like a star!
And his is the sceptre of right,
Boys, of right,
And his is the sceptre of right!
Old Cotton, the king, has no care,
No queen, and no heir to his throne,
No courtiers, his triumphs to share,
He rules his dominions alone,
Boys, alone!
He rules his dominions alone!
Old Cotton, the merry old boy!—
Like smoke from the pipe in his mouth
His years glide away in their joy,
At home, in the warm sunny south,
Boys, the south,
At home, in the warm sunny south!
Old Cotton will pleasantly reign
When other kings painfully fall,
And ever and ever remain
The mightiest monarch of all,
Boys, of all,
The mightiest monarch of all!
Then here's to old Cotton, the king!
His true loyal subjects are we:
We'll laugh and we'll quaff and we'll sing,
A jolly old fellow is he,
Boys, is he,
A jolly old fellow is he!
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