FROM THE BRITISH LIGHT INFANTRY
GREAT Washington, thou mighty son of Mars,
Thou thund'ring hero of the rebel wars !
Accept our thanks for all thy favors past;
Our special thanks await thee for the last.
Thy proclamation, timely to command
The cattle to be fatten'd round the land,
Bespeaks thy generosity, and shows
A charity that reaches to thy foes !
And was this order issued for our sakes,
To treat us with roast beef and savory steaks ?
Or was it for thy rebel train intended ?
Give 'em the hides, and let their shoes be mended;
Tho' shoes are what they seldom wear of late;
'Twould load their nimble feet with too much weight !
And for the beef - there needs no puffs about it;
In short, they must content themselves without it.
We, to reward you for your care and pains,
Will visit soon your crowded stalls and plains;
And for your pamper'd cattle write, at large,
With bloody bayonets, a full discharge.
We know that we light bobs are tough and hardy,
And at a push you'll never find us tardy,
We have a stomach both for beef and battle;
So, honest whigs, once more, feed well your cattle.
Obey your chiefs command, and then, 'tis plain,
We cannot want for beef the next campaign !
And if we want for fighting, be it known,
The fault, good neighbors, shall be your own !