On Monday night at Jackson Hall
December fifth. I'll tell it all,
Day and year I'll tell you even,
'Twas eighteen hundred seventy-seven.
The Jacksonites were out in force,
No common thing was up of course,
But something rare and rich and great,
'Twas nothing short of a debate;
What was the question? Let me see,
Yes; "Can Christians consistently
Engage in war against a brother
And at the same time love each other?"
But first and foremost let me say,
My muse has taken me astray,
So I'll return to the beginning
Digression is my common sinning
For which your pardon I implore,
If granted, I will sin no more,
That is no more till the next time,
For when I'm forging out a rhyme,
The narrative which I would fix up,
I somehow rather oddly mix up.

A president must first be got,
So they elected James M. Scott,
He said he'd serve; (and that was clever,)
A little while, but not forever.
A paper called a "constitution,"
Was read and on some person's motion,
Was all adopted, at a word,