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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 looked 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 happened just then,
That two were at Van Deusen's.
Strait unto these the sergeant went, And left old Rip, all standing,
A waiting for the blown cornet,
At Squire Van Deusen's landing.