Bill Walker was a filibuster, and damned fool.
A mute woman he married who served him his gruel.
He marched 50 men to lower Californie,
& marched 40 less back up to Tia Juanie.
Wily Walker was a southerner, Nashville bred,
Brought slave politick to Saint Francis' bed,
In a free state he filibustered on court stage
For the freedom of fools to fetter the least sage.
Willie Walker was a doctor, but still a fool,
Insulted thrice, and he thrice won the duel,
Was the same man he cured, the same he fell,
Scripted him for service, Manifest charter's knell.
Bill sailed to his Destiny, 69 strong,
On Vanderbilt's ships arrived at San Juan,
He walked down to Nicaragua and shot his gun,
Got hold of his fate, America's pirate son.
Named himself President of the Free Republic
Of Slaveowning Slaves, declaring transit
His own power & neither the public's
Nor Vander-built, so the legend has it:
Walker walked out of his contract with Vanderbilt,
And the Commodore couldn't stand it: while
Walker his vicarious kingdom built,
Old Corny crafted some toothy guile:
Took the trains & boats away, & disowned
The Nicaraguan nation, & Walker
Lost his country, the men & laws repo'd
By capital gain, chief filibuster.
Bill died a death ignoble in 1860
By Honduran firing squad, swearing oaths,
One year afore the mad war of civility
& the year Abram the Republican took both.
Lord, bless Billy Walker, whose way sure had Will,
But no way in hell did ever he get his fill.
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