He cried, as to his foe he ran,
“We owe a grudge to that ’ere man,
This day we’ll spoil his beauty.”
But, oh! the dreadful wound,
Which sent the “claret” round,
The hero’s nose received.
Then, sinking on his side,
“Our boat’s going o’er,” he cried;
“But long enough I’ve lived,
I’ve black’d his other eye at last,