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Literary
September 12, 1844
New Haven Daily Herald
New Haven, New Haven County, Connecticut
What is this article about?
A satirical prose introduction mocks the Locofocos for their fondness of the 'Salt River' defeat metaphor applied to Whigs, recommending a dirge poem anticipating their own electoral loss to Clay, referencing Polk, Texas annexation, and party symbols like coons and foxes.
Clipping
OCR Quality
95%
Excellent
Full Text
The Locofocos are very fond of helping the Whigs to a passage up Salt River; but believing that they soon will have to take a trip up that gloomy stream, we recommend to them the following "Dirge," which we found the other day in an exchange:
THE LOCOS' DIRGE
Slowly and sadly forward we row,
To the land of Salt River we cheeringly go;
November's chill blast will whistle our dirge,
As hopeless we land on its lone, barren verge.
'Neath a dead hick'ry we will rest,
Where the songs of the coons shall no more pain our breast;
The Fox and the Poke will echo our woes,
And the stream it will murmur as turbid it flows.
Texas, dear Texas! were we with thee,
With thy robbers and villains, we might all be free;
Here in this desert we'll moan our last lay,
For we ne'er can escape through this barrier of CLAY!
Our hopes are ended; could we but fly
On the wings of a Polk, far beyond the blue sky,
There we might dwell on sweet Araby's shore,
With Bank ghosts and coon skins be troubl'd no more.
Farewell, dear Fortune—here we must dwell,
On the banks of Salt River!—forever farewell!
THE LOCOS' DIRGE
Slowly and sadly forward we row,
To the land of Salt River we cheeringly go;
November's chill blast will whistle our dirge,
As hopeless we land on its lone, barren verge.
'Neath a dead hick'ry we will rest,
Where the songs of the coons shall no more pain our breast;
The Fox and the Poke will echo our woes,
And the stream it will murmur as turbid it flows.
Texas, dear Texas! were we with thee,
With thy robbers and villains, we might all be free;
Here in this desert we'll moan our last lay,
For we ne'er can escape through this barrier of CLAY!
Our hopes are ended; could we but fly
On the wings of a Polk, far beyond the blue sky,
There we might dwell on sweet Araby's shore,
With Bank ghosts and coon skins be troubl'd no more.
Farewell, dear Fortune—here we must dwell,
On the banks of Salt River!—forever farewell!
What sub-type of article is it?
Satire
Poem
Elegy
What themes does it cover?
Political
What keywords are associated?
Locofocos
Salt River
Political Dirge
Whigs
Election Satire
Clay
Polk
Texas Annexation
Literary Details
Title
The Locos' Dirge
Key Lines
Slowly And Sadly Forward We Row,
To The Land Of Salt River We Cheeringly Go;
November's Chill Blast Will Whistle Our Dirge,
As Hopeless We Land On Its Lone, Barren Verge.
Texas, Dear Texas! Were We With Thee,
With Thy Robbers And Villains, We Might All Be Free;
Here In This Desert We'll Moan Our Last Lay,
For We Ne'er Can Escape Through This Barrier Of Clay!
Farewell, Dear Fortune—Here We Must Dwell,
On The Banks Of Salt River!—Forever Farewell!