Classic Poem

Awake! arise, ye patriot brave,
Your duty to fulfil!
Rush in your righteous wrath to save
The land from threatened ill.
Foul treachery's vengeful shadows flit
Like demons everywhere;
And Baby Cleveland wants to sit
In grandpa's baby's chair.

Shall this spoiled darling vanquish that
Sweet Hoosier younkit? Nay!
She 'll never wear her grandpa's hat—
She is n't built that way.
Out—out upon the pampered chit!
The patriot legions swear
That Baby Cleveland shall not sit
In grandpa's baby's chair!

So come! We 'll lift our standard high—
A tiny pair of pants!
This “ln hoc signo” 'll petrify
All Mugwump sycophants!
Stern common sense shall soon outwit
Each sentimental snare;
And Baby Cleveland shall not sit
In grandpa's baby's chair!