1909- Poetry

Charlotte Daily Observer 5/21/1909 p.9

 

THE DAY WE CELEBRATE.  

The Twentieth of May is here, Tar Heels;

And President Taft’s here, too.

The streets are thronged with people,

And covered with Red, White and Blue.

Everyone’s here from far and near;

Like Hornets around their nest.

All celebrating our declaration,

The one we love the best.

We see many a familiar face

As through the crowds we meander,

Especially our good friend, the Deacon,

But we miss his Hong Kong Gander.

 

The Twentieth of May is here, Tar Heels

With a dozen Governors or more.

Great men are here from everywhere,

With statesmen and people galore.

The weather is well nigh perfect,

And the skies are smiling blue.

And we are proud of our celebration,

And proud of Charlotte, too.

We are proud of all our visitors,

And remark with utmost candor,

That we are proud to have the Deacon,

But we sorely miss his Gander.  

 

The Twentieth of May is here, Tar Heels,

And we have reason to boast

Of our hundred thousand visitors

To whom we are acting host.

The Cavalry and the Infantry, too,

And Uncle Sam’s own Band

Are helping make our celebration

The finest in all the land.

Don’t we wish that man Sally was here;

Say, wouldn’t it get his dander?

But most of all we wish the Deacon

Had brought that Hong Kong Gander.  

 

The Twentieth of May is here, Tar Heels

And night time looks like day

And the echo of our celebration

Can be heard for miles away.

Every one’s praising Charlotte

And saying: “Declaration!  Shake!”

“It would take much more than a Sally

To prove that document a fake.”

And Sally, Poor Old Sally, fake,

Is in a kind of greenish jander,

For the only two who believe him

Are the Deacon and his Gander.  

 

The Twentieth of May is here, Tar Heels,

The grandest we have ever had;

Every one’s having the finest time,

Only that man Sally’s sad.

Poor Old Sally—he’s peevish,

But he will get over it soon,

For the world will acknowledge our declaration

Before the first of next June.

Our fondest hopes are realized,

But it seems an awful pity

That the Deacon wouldn’t bring that Gander home

And let him see a real city.  

—A. M. S., JR.