The Liberator

THE
COPPERHEAD
BY JOHN HOLLAND.

There is a snake that haunts the grass,
Despised by all men, white and red
Trod 'neath the hoofs of ox and ass—
The glistening, venomous copperhead.
Throughout three seasons of the year,
The rattlesnake himself hath fled:
But when the extra months appear,
His sutler is the copperhead
The twisting, wriggling copperhead;
The glistening, venomous copperhead!
The man of sense can fix the tense
In which to kill the copperhead.
'Tis said that every creeping thing
Has got some useful task ahead:
But yet the bards have failed to sing
One virtue in the copperhead.
The ancient snake in Eden's bowers
From flowery paths our parents led;
Experience in this age of ours
Comes down upon the copperhead—
The slippery, slimy copperhead—
The hissing, spitting copperhead;
The sweat of man through ages shed,
Cries, "Clubs upon the Copperhead!"
We love to scan the lordly beast
That's called the king by naturalists;
But yet, we shun the foul retreat
Where'er the slippery reptile twists.
The winnowing birds that haunt the grove
Make echo ring where'er we tread;
But, ah! they cease their songs of love,
Whene'er they spy the copperhead—
The wallowing, sponging copperhead;
The birds despise the copperhead;
From Union hands it eats its bread,
And bites for thanks the copperhead.
But, glory be to Israel's God!
The Union bird its wings has spread
Whose beak and claws shall rid the sod
Of every crawling copperhead.
The rattlesnake and copperhead
Shall ne'er coil up fair Freedom's bed:
The Union pole pokes every hole
That can contain a copperhead.
Alas, alas, the copperhead!
The Union stone has smashed its head!
We'll stuff its skin for men to grin
At what was once a copperhead