Where Horace Greeley feels first rate,
Where the people are ruled by Tammany ring,
And Mr. Fisk is a Railroad King,
With two thousand men at his command,
Besides a boat with a big brass band?
Not there, not there, my child!
Is it where the little pigs grow great
In the fertile vales of the Buckeye State?
And get so fat on acorns and meal
That they sell every bit of them all but the squeal,