Classic Poem

Ho! for Pike's Peak, where gold is found;
The shining dust is in the ground.
Where sands sparkle with precious ore,
The creeks are full, What need we more?

Ho! Ho! for the mountains ages old,
That lift their heads so grand and bold;
Their foreheads up in air so high,
They seem to press against the sky.

Ho! for their crests so gray and rough,
Their bosoms are surely rich enough,
With brilliant gold, more than all
E'er dug or seen since Adam's fall.

Ho! for the rivers and the rills,
Whose source is in those mighty hills
And sands are gold and costly stones;
Ho! for those lofty mountain cones.

Gold buys influence, honor, station,
Rules the powers of the nation
In all its branches, and asserts
Sovereign sway as its deserts.

Gets the Senator and his vote,
Gives the editor his keynote,
Rules the parson, makes him speak,
Lightly of sin done through the week,

Buys the judge, dictates the law,
Saves the wretch from hangman's claw,
Makes the ruffian an abject slave,
To rob, to murder, or to save.

Ho! away and our wagons fill,
With precious metal from the hill
Get this wand of mighty power,
The Pike's Peaker's golden dower.

Ho! let's away ere break of day
Until the mountain's stay our way,
And with sluice, shovel and pick,
Fill our coffers mighty quick.