But, lest chieftain Washington Should mourn them in the mumps,[39] The fate of Withington to shun, They fought _behind_ the stumps.[40] But ah! Thaddeus Posset, why Should thy poor soul elope? And why should Titus Hooper die-- Ah! die without a rope? Apostate Murphy, thou to whom Fair Shela ne'er was cruel; _In death shalt hear her_ mourn thy doom, "Och! would ye die, my jewel?" Thee, Nathan Pumpkin, I lament, Of melancholy fate; The gray goose, stolen as he went, In his heart's blood was wet. Now, as the fight was further fought, And balls began to thicken, The fray assumed, the gen'rals thought, The color of a licking. Yet undismayed, the chiefs command, And, to redeem the day, Cry, "Soldiers, charge!" They hear, they stand-- They turn and run away! CANTO III. Not all delights the bloody spear, Or horrid din of battle; There are, I'm sure, who'd like to hear A word about the rattle. The chief whom we beheld of late Near Schralenberg haranguing, At Yan Van Poop's[41] unconscious sat Of Irvine's hearty banging; While valiant Lee, with courage wild, Most bravely did oppose The tears of women and of child, Who begged he'd leave the cows. But Wayne, of sympathizing heart, Required a relief Not all the blessings could impart Of battle or of beef. For now a prey to female charms, His soul took more delight in A lovely Hamadryad's[42] arms, Than cow-driving or fighting. A nymph, the refugees had drove Far from her native tree, Just happened to be on the move, When up came Wayne and Lee. She in mad Anthony's fierce eye The hero saw portrayed, And, all in tears, she took him by The bridle of his jade.[43] "Hear," said the nymph, "O great commander, No human lamentations; The trees you see them cutting yonder Are all my near relations. "And I, forlorn, implore thine aid To free the sacred grove; So shall thy prowess be repaid With an immortal's love." Now some, to prove she was a goddess, Said this enchanting fair Had late retired from the _Bodies_[44] In all the pomp of war; That drums and merry fifes had played To honor her retreat, And Cunningham[45] himself conveyed The lady through the street. Great Wayne, by soft compassion swayed, To no inquiry stoops, But takes the fair, afflicted maid _Right_ into Yan Van Poop's. So Roman Anthony, they say, Disgraced the imperial banner, And for a gypsy lost a day, Like Anthony the tanner. The Hamadryad had but half Received redress from Wayne, When drums and colors, cow and calf, Came down the road amain.