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262 Yet round thee are assembled now New chieftains, all intent as thou
 * On hard militia duty:

Here’s King,13 conspicuous for his hat, And Ferris Pell, for God knows what,
 * And Bayard, for his beauty.

These are but colonels—there are hosts Of higher grades, like Banquo’s ghosts,
 * Upon my sight advancing;

In truth they made e’en Jackson stare, When in the Park, up-tossed in air,
 * He saw their plumage dancing.

Yet I should wrong them not to name Two Major-Generals, high in fame,
 * By Heaven! a gallant pair!

(They haven’t any soldiers yet,) His Honor, General by brevet,
 * Bogardus, brevet Mayor.

Should England dare to send again Her scoundrel red-coats o’er the main,
 * I fear some sad disaster;

Each soldier wears an epaulette, The Guards have turned a capering set,
 * And want a dancing-master.