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Poem by Royall Tyler
Convivial Song for General Morris
Talk not of your Washington's, Hancock's and Sullivan's, And all the wild crew; Our Tom set on high With his single eye Can more espy Than they can with two. Here's to eagle-eyed Gideon, Who keeps his eye steady on And is ever ready on The public amounts. And to Ira our Treasurer, Eke our land measurer, God soon send him leisure more To settle his accounts. To the brave General Enos, Who steps firm between us And cuts a great dash; To that son of Zion, Judah's young Lyon, To melt his ore iron, May he never lack cash. Now Bradley our General Who ever so well A story can tell, Our glasses must fill; He can turn black to white, And is always in the right, Be on which side he will. Here's to Morris our Brigadier, Who so kindly invites us here And gives us this treat; And to the noble Tichenor, Who has so long been wishing for And ever will be itching for The Governor's seat.
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