Down with the pedagogue Sears.
The serf has his Sunday—the negroes tell o’er
Their Christmas, the Fourth, aye, and many days more,
When they feel themselves any man’s peers;
But we’re tasked night and day by the line and the rule,
And Sunday’s no Sunday, for there’s Sunday school,
So down with the pedagogue Sears.
(Chorus,) Down, down, &c.
So here’s to the lad who can talk to his lass,
And here’s to the lad who can take down his glass,