Some tell us ’t is a burnin’ shame
  To make the naygers fight;
An’ that the thrade of bein’ kilt
  Belongs but to the white:
But as for me, upon my sowl!
  So liberal are we here,
I ’ll let Sambo be murthered instead of myself,
  On every day in the year.
    On every day in the year, boys,
      And in every hour of the...