18
SONG OF HUBBARDTON RAID
Graveyard filled with none but friends,
Friends very dear to all in town,
In the land of early rose potatoes.
They came pouring in from all points:
From the east and from the west,
From the north and from the south.
As the sexton shoveled out the sods,
Shoveled the sods from this sacred spot,
In they thronged; the crowd grew larger;
As the sexton neared the coffin
The excitement grew stronger,
And the hollow sound grew louder;
It echoed from the forests
In the wild woods of Hubbardton,
The land of johnny cake and hominy,
Hominy made from the corn,
From the yellow corn pounded coarse,
From the golden, yellow, shining corn,
In the land of battle, but not of song.
