Turk, Russian, Jew, and Infidel, and all those powers in one
While Hancock crowns our Senate, our camp, great Washington.

Yet think not thirst of glory unsheathes our vengeful swords
To rend our bonds asunder and cast away our cords;
'Tis heaven-born freedom fires us now, and strengthens each brave son,
From him who lowly guides the plough to godlike Washington.

Should warlike weapons fail us, disdaining slavish fears,
To swords we'll turn our ploughshares, our pruning-hooks to spears;
And rush all desp'rate on the foe, nor breathe till battle's won,
And shout and shout, America, and conquering Washington!

Fired with the great idea, our fathers' shades shall rise,
To view the stern contention the gods forsake the skies;
And Wolfe, 'mid hosts of heroes superior bending down,
Cry out with ardor for the cause, "Well done, brave Washington!"

Proud France may view with terror, and haughty Spain may fear,
Whilst every warlike nation shall court alliance here;
And George's minions humbling down dismount him from his throne,
Pay homage to America and conquering Washington!

The Junta together their heads were laying,
And North in a flourish his parts was displaying;
A placeman steps in, cries, "The rebels are beat,
Philadelphia's our own and the whole's at our feet."
⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Derry down.

Lord North looked around with a delicate smile,
And cried "I still knew we the rebels should foil;
Now Vengeance we'll deck like some being divine,
And Jack Ketch's labors in future shall shine."
⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Derry down.

The cannons did thunder, the bells sweetly chime,
When a captain arrived whom they called Propenheim.
"What news?" said the Junta, "we know it is good,
The rebels are wholly and solely subdued."
⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Derry down.

"My lords," said the captain, "I dare not amuse,
For I am the messenger of dismal news;
The tide of our fortune is stopped in its course,
And Burgoyne is a prisoner with all his whole force."
⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Derry down.

As when dreadful lightnings in flashes do fly,
And level some wretch in the twink of an eye,
The Junta received a similar shock,
And screamed, "Lord, deliver our heads from the block!"
⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Derry down.

For some time they hung in this dreadful suspense,
Not daring to make or defer a defence,
When from Philadelphia Cornwallis arrived,
On hearing which tidings their hopes were revived.
⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Derry down.

Without hesitation they hasted away
As swift as a hawk in pursuit of his prey;
"Have you any good tidings, my lord, tell us quick,
That will cheer up our spirits, for faith we are sick."
⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Derry down.

His lordship then sighed and cried, "Alas!
Our matters are brought to a terrible pass;
Besieged by the rebels, quite chagrined and grieved,
Poor Howe must soon fly if not quickly relieved."
⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Derry down.

The Junta were struck with this dreary relation,
And cried out, "Poor Britain's a ruined nation;
Her finances sunk and her measures all crossed,
No sums can be borrowed and all must be lost."
⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Derry down.

"Some comfort, however, presents to our view,
Our faithful Canadians will ever prove true;
We'll prove from that quarter a thorn in their side,
We'll stop their career and we'll humble their pride."
⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Derry down.

Soon after, a vessel arrived on the coast,
With tidings that Canada also was lost,
Had risen, revolted, laid siege to Quebec,
Which news put each villain in pain for his neck,
⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Derry down.

Now, Britons, your rights and your famed Magna Charta
Must end in a smoke like a loud Magna
Your talents, messieurs, directed by Bute,
Have rendered our sovereign quite absolute.
⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Derry down.