On coming up, the guard call'd out
And asked him where he's going—
To which he answer'd with his spur,
And left him in the mowing.
The bushes pass'd him like the wind,
And pebbles flew asunder,
The guard was left far, far behind,
All mix'd with mud and wonder.
Lee's troops paraded, all alive,
Although 'twas one the morning,
And counting o'er a dozen or more,
One sergeant is found wanting.
A little hero, full of spunk,
But not so full of judgment,
Press'd Major Lee to let him go,
With the bravest of his reg'ment.
Lee summon'd cornet Middleton,
Expressèd what was urgent,
And gave him orders how to go
To catch the rambling sergeant.
Then forty troopers, more or less,
Set off across the meader;
'Bout thirty-nine went jogging on
A-following their leader.
At early morn, adown a hill,
They saw the sergeant sliding;
So fast he went, it was not ken't
Whether he's rode, or riding.
None lookèd back, but on they spurr'd,
A-gaining every minute.
To see them go, 'twould done you good,
You'd thought old Satan in it.
The sergeant miss'd 'em, by good luck,
And took another tracing,
He turn'd his horse from Paulus Hook,
Elizabethtown facing.
It was the custom of [Sir Hal]
To send his galleys cruising,
And so it happenèd just then
That two were at Van Deusen's.