Clinton’s red battalions flee.
Morgan’s rifles, fiercely flashing,
Thin the foe’s retreating ranks,
And behind them onward dashing
Ogden hovers on their flanks.
Fast they fly, these boasting Britons,
Who in all their glory came,
With their brutal Hessian hirelings
To wipe out our country’s name.
Proudly floats the starry banner,