Here crashed a sturdy oath of stout John Bull,

Who damned away his eyes as heretofore:

There Paddy brogued "By Jasus!"—"What's your wull?"

The temperate Scot exclaimed: the French ghost swore

In certain terms I shan't translate in full,

As the first coachman will; and 'midst the war,[hc]

The voice of Jonathan was heard to express,

"Our President is going to war, I guess."