Two Appeals to John Harralson, Agent

John Harralson, John Harralson, you are a wretched creature,
You've added to this bloody war a new and awful feature.
You'd have us think while every man is bound to be a fighter,
The ladies, bless the pretty dears, should save their p — — for nitre.

John Harralson, John Harralson, where did you get this notion,
To send your barrel round the town to gather up the lotion?
We thought the girls had work enough in making shirts and kissing,
But you have put the pretty dears to patriotic p — — .

John Harralson, John Harralson, do pray invent a neater
And somewhat less immodest mode of making your saltpetre:
For 'tis an awful idea, John, gunpowdery and cranky,
That when a lady lifts her shift she's killing off a Yankee.
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