When erst, in Heaven, he raised old Harry;
With jokes and cannon, in terrorem,
Rush’d on and drove ’em all before him.
Stick your keen penetrating probes
Through right and left hepatic lobes;
And though you pierce the diaphragm,
You need not care a single d—n.
So Indians, when a captive’s taken,
And they resolve to fry his bacon,
Their savage torture to refine,