So, to begin at the beginnin’
  An’ come direcly to the pint, 10
I think the country’s underpinnin’
  Is some consid’ble out o’ jint;
I aint agoin’ to try your patience
  By tellin’ who done this or thet,
I don’t make no insinooations,
  I jest let on I smell a rat.

Thet is, I mean, it seems to me so,
  But, ef the public think I’m wrong,
I wunt deny but wut I be so,—­
  An’ fact, it don’t smell very strong; 20
My mind’s tu fair to lose its balance
  An’ say wich party hez most sense;
There may be folks o’ greater talence
  Thet can’t set stiddier on the fence.

I’m an eclectic; ez to choosin’
  ‘Twixt this an’ thet, I’m plaguy lawth;
I leave a side thet looks like losin’,
  But (wile there’s doubt) I stick to both;
I stan’ upon the Constitution,
  Ez preudunt statesman say, who’ve planned 30
A way to git the most profusion
  O’ chances ez to ware they’ll stand.

Ez fer the war, I go agin it,—­
  I mean to say I kind o’ du,—­
Thet is, I mean thet, bein’ in it,
  The best way wuz to fight it thru’;
Not but wut abstract war is horrid,
  I sign to thet with all my heart,—­
But civlyzation doos git forrid 39
  Sometimes upon a powder-cart.

About thet darned Proviso matter
  I never hed a grain o’ doubt. 
Nor I aint one my sense to scatter
  So ’st no one couldn’t pick it out;
My love fer North an’ South is equil,
  So I’ll jest answer plump an’ frank,
No matter wut may be the sequil,—­
  Yes, Sir, I am agin a Bank.

Ez to the answerin’ o’ questions,
  I’m an off ox at bein’ druv, 50
Though I ain’t one thet ary test shuns
  ‘ll give our folks a helpin’ shove;
Kind o’ permiscoous I go it
  Fer the holl country, an’ the ground
I take, ez nigh ez I can show it,
  Is pooty gen’ally all round.

I don’t appruve o’ givin’ pledges;
  You’d ough’ to leave a feller free,
An’ not go knockin’ out the wedges
  To ketch his fingers in the tree;
Pledges air awfle breachy cattle 61
  Thet preudunt farmers don’t turn out,—­
Ez long ’z the people git their rattle,
  Wut is there fer ’em to grout about?

Ez to the slaves, there’s no confusion
  In my idees consarnin’ them,—­
I think they air an Institution,
  A sort of—­yes, jest so,—­ahem: 
Do I own any?  Of my merit
  On thet pint you yourself may jedge; 70
All is, I never drink no sperit,
  Nor I haint never signed no pledge.

Ez to my princerples, I glory
  In hevin’ nothin’ o’ the sort;
I aint a Wig, I aint a Tory,
  I’m jest a canderdate, in short;
Thet’s fair an’ square an’ parpendicler
  But, ef the Public cares a fig
To hev me an’thin’ in particler,
  Wy, I’m a kind o’ peri-Wig. 80