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Show The Kirig of ihe Ten Per Cent. (Submitted to J. F. S. as being possibly suitable ' for a State Anthem.) My lay sounds the praise of a prophet whose ways Are famed as both lavish and free; Who wieldeth a sword in the name of the Lord The prophet aforesaid is me. In my ominous sway, all the white serfs obey, With their caputs submissively bent; i For I am the Lord of the pine and the sward And the King of the Ten Per Cent. The Moslem chief is a mendicant thief, Looking for lucre and loot; But the grafting I do is a marvel to view I and the saccharine Smoot. I At the laws others fear I jauntily jeer, For I was selected and sent To garner the gold from the gullible fold As the King of the Ten Per Cent. No kingly Aztec ever grasped a kopek j With the same munificent ease As I gather the pelf, for mine and myself, In this primitive diocese. 1 And no foolish poo-bah or licentious pasha, By heaven or hades sent, Is quite the whole show, as is Sagamore Joe, The King of the Ten Per Cent. No sceptre I bear, I'm an alien to Care, And the widow, all shrunken and pale, May weep at the door, but avaunt on the poor! Her pleadings shall never avail. Though the Union may rant, I am still adamant, With pelf and polygamy blent; All their laws I defy who is greater than I, The King of the Ten Per Cent? |