The little village seemed accursed;
Soon all her gaudy baubles burst,
She proved what me thought her before,
A wind bag bugh-and nothing more.
When this wretched village stood
Now stands a sign of painted wood
On it these words: "Upon this spot
Chicago stood, but now stands not"
Her time soon came, she had to go
A victim, she, of too much blow.
Soon all her gaudy baubles burst,
She proved what me thought her before,
A wind bag bugh-and nothing more.
When this wretched village stood
Now stands a sign of painted wood
On it these words: "Upon this spot
Chicago stood, but now stands not"
Her time soon came, she had to go
A victim, she, of too much blow.
St Louis Democrat May 8, 1875.
No comments:
Post a Comment