[2] To be sung to the tune of The British Grenadiers the verses are: Vain Britons, boast no longer with proud indignity, By land your conquering legions, your matchless strength by sea.
Fired with that great idea, our fathers' shades would rise; To view the stern contention, the gods desert their skies.
Your dark, unfathom'd counsels our weakest heads defeat, Our children rout your armies, our boats destroy your fleet, And to complete the dire disgrace, coop'd up within a town, You live, the scorn of all our host, the slaves of Washington!
Should George, too choice of Britons, to foreign realms apply, And madly arm half Europe, yet still we would defy Turk, Hessian, Jew, and Infidel, or all those powers in one, While Adams guides our senate, our camp great Washington!
Should warlike weapons fail us, disdaining slavish fears, To swords we'll beat our ploughshares, our pruninghooks to spears, And rush, all desperate!
Proud France should view with terror, and haughty Spain revere, While every warlike nation would court alliance here.