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DESCENT ON MIDDLESEX.
Thieves, murd'rers, and pickpockets too, And every thing that's bad they'd do; One of our men found to his cost, Three pounds, York money, he had lost.
They pick'd his pocket quite before We had been there one single hour ; And while he looked o'er and o'er, The vagrants from him stole some more.
We soon found out, but thought it Strang We never were to be exchang'd By a cartel, but for some men Whom they desir'd to have again.
A pack with whom they well agree, Who're call'd the loyal company, Or " Loyalists Associated," As by themselves incorporated.
Our food was call'd two-thirds in weight Of what a soldier has to eat; We had no blankets in our need, Till a kind friend did intercede.