And whomsoe'er along the path you meet

Bears in his cap the badge of crimson hue,

Which tells you whom to shun and whom to greet: [9.B.]

Woe to the man that walks in public view

Without of loyalty this token true:

Sharp is the knife, and sudden is the stroke;

And sorely would the Gallic foeman rue,

If subtle poniards, wrapt beneath the cloke,

Could blunt the sabre's edge, or clear the cannon's smoke.