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For the Washington Federalist A New Federal Song
  
  
  
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112

For the Washington Federalist A New Federal Song

The Jacobins have got the day
The Feds are homeward moving;
But when they come again this way,
There will be desperate shoving.
Yankee doodle, keep it up,
Yankee doodle dandy,
The Feds will never start a peg
Till cider turns to brandy.
Duke Braintree is to Quincy gone,
To study new defenses,
For spite of all the old he finds,
The folks have lost their senses.
Yankee doodle, etc.
There's Sedgewick quits his lofty seat
For better speculation,
Than can be found while surly Smith
Will print the Fed's orations.
Yankee doodle, etc.

113

There's Dayton gone to see his lands
And have them all surveyed, sirs,
But shortly he'll be here again,
With sword and black cockade, sirs.
Yankee doodle, etc.
There's Wolcott, he gives up the cash,
To sit upon the bench, sirs:
Like Felix, 'round the Jacobins
He'll work till he is weary.
Yankee Doodle, etc.
There's Otis leaves seditious laws,
To be the Fed attorney;
When in your tails he sticks his claws,
You'll wish the de'il to burn ye.
Yankee doodle, etc.
There's Griswold, he won't condescend,
To be war secretary;
But if you trust him with the cash
He'll work till he is weary.
Yankee doodle, etc.

114

There's Dexter fit for any thing;
Can preach on any text, sir;
Let John or Jefferson, be king,
You'll find him Ambidexter.
Yankee doodle, etc.
There's Read, and Green, and Hill, and More
Are all turned into judges,
For not a Fed, without a place,
From Congress homeward trudges;
Yankee doodle, etc.
But Bayard, he won't go to France
To see his gallant cousins,
Lest Heaper's wonderous tales and plots,
Should multiply by dozens,
Yankee doodle, etc.
There's Hamilton, he lies perdue,
With old sly Pickering, sirs,
In spite of all the fools can do,
They soon will have a kind, sirs.

115

Yankee doodle, etc.
Then, we shall sing, “God Save the King”;
Th' aristocrats and Tories,
And placemen all from south to north,
Will join, in joyful chorus.
Yankee doodle, keep it up,
Yankee doodle dandy,
The Feds will never start a peg
Till cider turns to brandy.
Mar. 3, 1801