The Poetical Writings of Fitz-Greene Halleck/The Militia of the City
THE MILITIA OF THE CITY.
r. Clinton, whose worth we shall know when we’ve lost him,
Is delightfully free of his gifts, if they cost him
But little or nothing, like smiles and brevets;
With what wonderful tact he appreciates merit
In bestowing on all our grown lads of high spirit
His parchment commissions and gold epaulettes!
’Tis amusing to see these young nurslings of fame,
With their sashes of crimson and collars of flame;
Their cocked hats enchanting—their buttons divine,
And even the cloth of their coats superfine!
Displaying, around us, their new tinsel riches,
As proud as a boy in his first pair of breeches.
Ah! who does not envy their steps of delight,
Through the streets to their battle-drums prancing,
While scared at their “chimney-sweep” badges so bright,
Cartmen, pigs, and old women, seek safety in flight,
As, in exquisite order, their lines are advancing!
Long live the Militia! from sergeant to drummer
They’ve the true soldier-aspect, chivalric and wild,
In their clothes of more hues than the rainbow of summer,
Or the dress which the Patriarch wore when a child.
Unawed by court-martials, by fines or by fears,
They glow with the feelings of free Volunteers.
Yes! long live the Militia! that free school of glory
Where Mapes, Colden, and Steddiford took their degree;
Lives there a man who ne’er heard their proud story,
What an ignorant, unlettered cub he must be!
From the Battery flag-staff their fame has ascended
To the sand-hills of Greenwich and plains of Bellevue;
And the belles of Park Place for the palm have contended
Of rewarding the feats they have promised to do!
Let the poets of Europe still scribble as hard as
They please, of their Cæsars and Bonys to tell—
Be ours the bright names of Laight, Ward, and Bogardus,
And that promising genius, the bold Colonel Pell.