HERE rests, and let no saucy knave | |
| Presume to sneer and laugh, | |
| To learn that moldering in the grave | |
| Is laid a British Calf. | |
| |
| For he who writes these lines is sure, | 5 |
| That those who read the whole | |
| Will find such laugh was premature, | |
| For here, too, lies a sole. | |
| |
| And here five little ones repose, | |
| Twin born with other five, | 10 |
| Unheeded by their brother toes, | |
| Who all are now alive. | |
| |
| A leg and foot to speak more plain, | |
| Rests here of one commanding; | |
| Who though his wits he might retain, | 15 |
| Lost half his understanding. | |
| |
| And when the guns, with thunder fraught, | |
| Poured bullets thick as hail, | |
| Could only in this way be taught | |
| To give the foe leg-bail. | 20 |
| |
| And now in England, just as gay | |
| As in the battle brave, | |
| Goes to a rout, review, or play, | |
| With one foot in the grave. | |
| |
| Fortune in vain here showed her spite, | 25 |
| For he will still be found, | |
| Should England’s sons engage in fight, | |
| Resolved to stand his ground. | |
| |
| But Fortune’s pardon I must beg; | |
| She meant not to disarm, | 30 |
| For when she lopped the hero’s leg, | |
| She did not seek his harm, | |
| |
| And but indulged a harmless whim; | |
| Since he could walk with one, | |
| She saw two legs were lost on him, | 35 |
| Who never meant to run. | |
| |
