STill stuck in 1844, here's another one from the Clay campaign.

THE MILL-BOY OF THE SLASHES

Come forward, ye brave sons of Neptune,
Come forward without more delay
And rally around your protector,
The Statesman, the Patriot, Clay.

The colors that float at the mast-head,
Lo! these are the words heard say,
Should be the credentials of seamen -
They fell from the lips of great Clay.

To talk about titles, all trash is,
Each candid observer will say,
When he sees the Mill-Boy of the Slashes,
Transformed to the great Harry Clay.

There we'll hail him our noble commander,
Stand by him by night and by day
At the helm of the ship of the Nation,
We'll be safe while conducted by Clay.

There are many who seek this honor,
But to such every freeman should say,
You'll first stand aside my good fellows,
And leave a clear field for Hal Clay.

There's Lindenwald's farming magician,
Reclaiming his bags for this hay,
Has lately defined his position,
And entered the field against Clay.

But he'll soon have occasion to rue it,
Whatever the solons may say -
For Martin Van Buren can't come it,
When pitted against Harry Clay.

This song was obviously written before the Democrats had their convention and everyone assumed that Martin Van Buren would be the nominee. Van Buren stubbed his toe by opposing the annexation of Texas (looking back over history was Marty wise beyond his years? No Texas = no Kennedy assasination, no LBJ, no George W., no Lonestar beer, no "Texas" toast, no Dallas Cowboys, no Ross Perot, need I go on?) The tumultuous convention went to nine ballots before James Polk was nominated by acclamation. Polk's name wasn't even under consideration until the 7th ballot.