In school I was a quiet child,
And gave my teachers little fash,
But as I grew I grew more wild,
And hasty as the lightning’s flash.
Of study I was never fond,
My school books gave me no delight,
I patronized the nearest pond,
To fish or swim by day or night.
And when the frosts of winter came,
And bound the streams in fetters tight,
It gave me pleasure all the same
To skate upon their bosom bright.
I was athletic in my way
And on my muscle went it strong,
And stood to fight or ran to play,
Regardless of the right or wrong.
In wrestling I did much excel
And lov’d to douse a boasting fop,
Nor cared I how or where we fell
Provided I fell on the top.
I loved my friends with all my might,
My foes I hated just as strong,
My friends were always in the right,
My foes forever in the wrong.
A sportsman early I became,
A sort of second Daniel Boone,
And bagg’d my share of ev’ry game
From cony, up or down, to coon.
No tawny chieftain’s swarthy son,
Was ever fonder of the chase,
Than I was of my trusty gun,
Although I had a paler face.
I shot the squirrel near his den.
The silly rabbit near her lair;
And captured ev’ry now and then,
A pheasant in my cunning snare.
And many things I think of here,
Which time forbids me now to say,
That happen’d in my wild career,
To me, since that eventful day