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DESCENT ON MIDDLESEX.
Up to the guard-house we were led, Where each receiv'd a crumb of bread ; Not quite one mouthful, I believe, For every man we did receive.
In boats, the ferry soon we pass'd, And at New York arriv'd at last; As through the streets we pass'd along, Ten thousand curses round us rang.
But some would laugh, and some would And some would grin, and others leer; A mixed mob, a medley crew, I guess as e'er the devil knew.
To the Provost we then were haul'd, Though we of war were prisoners call'd ; Our irons now were order'd off, And we were left to sneeze and cough.
But oh ! what company we found, With great surprise we look'd around: I must conclude that in that place, We found the worst of Adam's race.