y/iy^wd I AdOQ 9691 i^a 9Z.d' II9e Sd BEAUTirULAAOLLIE 4«i ThE Republican's Song or the TARirr BY ... WlLD-BlRD ... DENVER. COLORADO COPYRIGHT 1895 A/-)L. FRINK AjoL. FRI ^^ Of CO/v. JUN 12 1895 3/^ z^.^ INTRODUCTORY NOTE One would hardly expect a Wild-Bird to sing of so material a theme as Protection ; but why not? A rose-covered cottage amid green trees in which birds sing their hosannas, is not a typical American Home, unless the fruits of honest in- dustry are brought to its substantial support. Sing on, Wild-Bird ; sing of birds and flowers, of human love and divine Fatherhood ; but come down often, and chirp to all our Mollies of the things which make a woman's home her ca^^le. J ;g;i^LEN Foster Denver, May 23 BEAUTIFUL MOLLIE / V The Republican's Song of the Tariff There's no land, my beautiful Mollie, Like this of the stripes and stars. Our harvests reach out to the oceans, Our vineyards are filling the cars. Our coal-fields are warming the millions. And lighting the lamps of the world. There's no land like this, my sweet Mollie, No banner like ours is unfurled ; Where all things sweetest, gladdest, blest. From north to south, from east to west, Bring a harvest, richest, best. Under the stripes and stars. There's no land, my beautiful MoUie, Like this of the stripes and stars. No country this .side the blue heavens So worthy of gates and of bars. Field, pasture and forest pour riches ; Yet little flows over the sea ; The best of our products weWe using ; A throng of consumers are ive! Protection is God'' s glorious zvall. Don't let the grand old Tariff fall. Then there^ II be work enough for a 11^ Under the stripes and stars. Our mountains are caskets of wonder,. Whose glory no mortal has told ; Such veins of the purest of silver, Such measureless millions of gold ! What jewels of beauty are hidden Enwrapt in the ages of night, Now waiting the joyful explorer To bring forth their smiles to the light. — When silver, as in days of old. Shall, hand in hand, go forth with gold, They'll scatter blessings all untold Under the STRIPES and STARS. There's no land, my beautiful Mollie, So sought by the immigrants poor ; The tide pouring in from all nations, And asking a place at our door. And we must give work to the myriads, And industries countless maintain ; And build manufactories widely. Where wages give comfort and gain. Without Protection, wages low. No ivork, 710 bread, like stor^ns of snow, A blast will come, a blast of tvoe, Under the sTRiPES and STARS ! There's a difference, beautiful Mollie, 'Tween countries that give a low wage, And one that pays well for its labor. The ills of the home to assuage. Take down the blest wall of the Tariff, And over the nation will flow^ Cheap wares from the Old World's cheap labor. And wages with us will sink low. Protective Tariff, poor man's friend, A blessing on his toil to send, Before which kings and empires bend. Bend to the STRIPES and stars. Pray tell me, my beautiful Mollie, Where now shall I build us a home ? Shall it be 'mong the north-lands of sleigh-rides, Or south where the orange trees bloom ? Or west, where the glorious prairies Spread out like an emerald sea ; Or in some glad glade of the Rockies, Where gold mines are waiting for thee? — Let other lands Protection bring, And o'er their toilers spread the wing, If they would learn the song we sing Under the stripes and stars. O beautiful Mollie, your blushes Oft rival the rosiest dawn ! Your laughter rings out like the music Of birds when the winter is gone. — In city or hamlet or haven, By rillet or river or lake, Or 'mid the green wilds of the woodlands, Where, where the sweet home shall we make? Like sunlight on the radiant sea ; Like summer's forest minstrelsy ; So joy shall come to you and me. Under the stripes and stars. Denver, Colo. -mB.