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THE COW CHACE.
No shot could pass, if you will take The General's word for true;
But 'tis a d------ble mistake,
For every shot went through.
The firmer as the rebels press'd,
The loyal heroes stand; Virtue had nerv'd each honest breast,
And industry each hand.
" In valor's frenzy, Hamilton,
Rode like a soldier big, And secretary Harrison,
With pen stuck in his wig."
" But lest their chieftain Washington, Should mourn them in the mumps,
The fate of Withrington to shun,
They fought behind the stumps."
But ah, Thaddeus Posset, why Should thy poor soul elope ?
And why should Titus Hooper die, Ay, dieŚwithout a rope ?