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.

All in a cloud of dust were seen The sheep, the horse, the goat, The gentle heifer, ass obscene, The yearling, and the shoat.

And pack-horses with fowls came by, Befeathered on each side, Like Pegasus, the horse that I And other poets ride.

Sublime upon the stirrups rose The mighty Lee behind, And drove the terror-smitten cows Like chaff before the wind!

But sudden see the woods above Pour down another corps, All helter-skelter in a drove, Like that I sung before.

Irvine and terror in the van Came flying all abroad, And cannon, colors, horse, and man, Ran tumbling to the road.

Still as he fled, 'twas Irvine's cry, And his example too: "Run on, my merry men, all--for why?" The shot will not go through.

Five refugees, 'tis true, were found Stiff on the block-house floor; But then, 'tis thought, the shot went round, And in at the back door!

As when two kennels in the street, Swelled with a recent rain, In gushing streams together meet, And seek the neighboring drain--

So meet these dung-born tribes in one, As swift in their career, And so to New Bridge they ran on, But all the cows got clear.

Poor Parson Caldwell, all in wonder, Saw the returning train, And mourned to Wayne the lack of plunder, For them to steal again.[46]

For 'twas his right to seize the spoil, and To share with each commander, As he had done at Staten Island With frost-bit Alexander.[47]

In his dismay, the frantic priest Began to grow prophetic, You had swore, to see his lab'ring breast, He'd taken an emetic!

"I view a future day," said he, "Brighter than this day dark is, And you shall see what you shall see, Ha! ha! one pretty marquis;[48]

"And he shall come to Paulus Hook,[49] And great achievements think on, And make a bow and take a look, Like Satan over Lincoln.

"And all the land around shall glory To see the Frenchmen caper, And pretty Susan[50] tell the story In the next Chatham paper."

This solemn prophecy, of course, Gave all much consolation; Except to Wayne, who lost his horse Upon the great occasion--

His horse that carried all his prog, His military speeches, His corn-stalk whisky for his grog-- Blue stockings and brown breeches.

And now I've closed my epic strain, I tremble as I show it, Lest this same warrio-drover, Wayne, Should ever catch the poet.[51]