"You'll butter bread and bread butter, But do not butt your speeches. You'll butter bread and bread butter, But do not grease your breeches." Full many a child went into camp, All dressed in homespun kersey, To see the greatest rebel scamp That ever cross'd o'er Jersey. The rebel clowns, oh! what a sight! Too awkward was their figure. 'Twas yonder stood a pious wight, And here and there a nigger. Upon a stump he placed (himself), Great Washington did he, And through the nose of lawyer Close, Proclaimed great Liberty. The patriot brave, the patriot fair, From fervor had grown thinner, So off they march'd, with patriot zeal, And took a patriot dinner. The Colonials, on the other hand, among whom he seems to have inspired almost instant respect and affection, made him the subject of many songs, the most popular of which was Sewall's "War and Washington," which was sung by soldiers and civilians during the whole Revolution. WAR AND WASHINGTON Vain Britons, boast no longer with proud indignity, By land your conquering legions, your matchless strength at sea, Since we, your braver sons incensed, our swords have girded on, Huzza, huzza, huzza, huzza, for war and Washington. Urged on by North and vengeance those valiant champions came, Loud bellowing Tea and Treason, and George was all on flame, Yet sacrilegious as it seems, we rebels still live on, And laugh at all their empty puffs, huzza for Washington! Still deaf to mild entreaties, still blind to England's good, You have for thirty pieces betrayed your country's blood. Like Esop's greedy cur you'll gain a shadow for your bone, Yet find us fearful shades indeed inspired by Washington. Mysterious! unexampled! incomprehensible! The blundering schemes of Britain their folly, pride, and zeal, Like lions how ye growl and threat! mere asses have you shown, And ye shall share an ass's fate, and drudge for Washington! Your dark unfathomed councils our weakest heads defeat, Our children rout your armies, our boats destroy your fleet, And to complete the dire disgrace, cooped up within a town, You live the scorn of all our host, the slaves of Washington! Great Heaven! is this the nation whose thundering arms were hurled, Through Europe, Afric, India? whose navy ruled a world? The lustre of your former deeds, whole ages of renown, Lost in a moment, or transferred to us and Washington! Yet think not thirst of glory unsheaths our vengeful swords To rend your bands asunder, or cast away your cords, 'Tis heaven-born freedom fires us all, and strengthens each brave son, From him who humbly guides the plough, to god-like Washington. For this, oh could our wishes your ancient rage inspire, Your armies should be doubled, in numbers, force, and fire. Then might the glorious conflict prove which best deserved the boon, America or Albion, a George or Washington!