"What shall we do, as years go by, <br />And Peace remains a stranger -- <br />With Richmond yet in rebel hands, <br />And Washington in danger? <br />What shall we do for leaders, when <br />Old Age this race is cropping?" <br />I asked whom I met -- <br />And didn't it set them hopping! <br /> <br />"What shall we do? What shall we do? <br />Why, lay them on the shelves, <br />And we'll go down ourselves, <br />And teach the rebels something new, <br />And teach the rebels something new." <br /> <br />"What shall we do when armies march <br />To storm the rebel quarters -- <br />If as of yore, their marches end <br />Beside Potomac's waters? <br />May not we call our soldiers home? <br />May not we think of stopping?" <br />I strove to frame the question fair -- <br />But didn't it set them hopping! <br /> <br />"What shall we do when all the men <br />For battle have enlisted -- <br />And yet the rebels hold their ground, <br />And law is yet resisted?" <br />Instead of doing as I should -- <br />The theme politely dropping, <br />I ventured yet one question more -- <br />Oh didn't it get them hopping!<br /><br />Henry Clay Work<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/we-ll-go-down-ourselves/
