As the field died away, and the favourite failed.
Like the leaves of the summer when summer is green,
The faces of Peregrine’s backers were seen;
Like the leaves of the autumn when autumn is red,
Flushed the cheeks of the Yanks as their champion led.
Iroquois!!!—then the shoutings shook heaven’s blue dome,
As the legs of the Tinman safe lifted him home.
Oh! A was an Archer, A 1 at this fun.
And A was America, too,—and A won!
And B was the Briton who, ready to melt,