  He comes, he comes, the fearless man; Throw all your banners forth— Chicago bids him lead the van Of a united North. Hurrah, hurrah, hurrah! Let shouts for Lincoln ring; In Union rights let all unite To hail our Prairie King. A nation’s hand has wreathed his brow With stars her valor won; To Union’s quick-step, marching now, Comes Freedom’s Western Son. Hurrah, hurrah, hurrah! etc. Farewell to cliques that would disown The people’s high behest— That people’s waiting hand shall crown The champion of the West. Hurrah, hurrah, hurrah! etc. The people’s rights, the people’s voice, His battle-cry shall be— A nation, in Chicago’s choice, Hails Freedom’s sovereignty. The equal rights of North and South He fearless doth proclaim— He’ll tear disunion’s flag from both, And blast each traitor’s name. Hurrah, hurrah, hurrah! etc. Then ’neath the stripes Time’s hand hath blent, ’Neath stars our fathers won, Will make our Lincoln President In Eighteen Sixty-one. Hurrah, hurrah, hurrah! etc. |
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