I’ll tell you, George, in metre, if you attend awhile,
We forced your bold Sir Peter from Sullivan’s fair isle;
At Monmouth too we gained the honors of the day—
The victory we obtained for North America.
Surely we were your betters, hard by the Brandywine;
We laid him fast in fetters, whose name was John Burgoyne,
We made your Howe to tremble with terror and dismay,
True heroes we resemble, in North America.
Confusion to the tories, that black infernal name,
In which Great Britain glories, forever to her shame;