John listen’d, scrap’d, and bow’d, and then retir’d:
(Not that the Colonel’s speech he much admir’d.)
‘Come,’ said his Friend, ‘cheer up, & don’t be glum.
‘I’ve got a Biscuit, and a little Rum.’
‘No, no,’ said John, ‘I’ll from my Canteens borrow,
‘We’ll feast to-day, altho’ we starve to-morrow.
‘Then hand out, Teague, whatever is to spare,
‘And let us all the Prog amongst us share.’
Now see him careless stretch’d upon the ground,