And all agree to yield the palm
For grace and skill to ‘Georgy Sam,’
Who stamps so hard, and leaps so high,
‘Des watch him!’ is the wond’ring cry—
‘De nigger mus’ be, for a fac’,
Own cousin to a jumpin’-jack!’
On, on the restless fiddle sounds,
Still chorused by the curs and hounds;
Dance after dance succeeding fast,
Till supper is announced at last.