William McCarty, comp. The American National Song Book. 1842.
A Dialogue at Hyde-Park CornerAnd call you an unwelcome peer,
But I am glad to see you here:
The prince that fills the British throne,
Unless successful, honours none;
Poor Jack Burgoyne!—you’re not alone.
To rebel shores and their relief
There never came a happier chief:
In Fame’s black page it shall be read,
By Gallic arms my soldiers bled—
The rebels thine in triumph led.
Had I been blest with elbow-room,
I might have found a different doom;
But you, that conquer’d far and wide,
In little York thought fit to hide,
The subject ocean at your side.
Not Washington, his country’s boast,
Nor Rochambeau, with all his host,
Nor all the Gallic fleet’s parade—
Had Clinton ventured to my aid,
And Sammy Graves been not afraid.
Or mangled corpse, no price atones
Nor all that prattling rumour says,
Nor all the piles that art can raise,
The poet’s or the parson’s praise.
Yet still I think your notion true.
Dear brother Jack, our toils are o’er;—
With foreign conquests plagued no more,
We’ll stay and watch our native shore.