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And though thy city—Washington!
Still mocks my eagle wing and eye,
Yet is there joy upon a throne
Even here at Albany.
For though but second in command,
Far floats my banner in the breeze,
A Captain-General’s on the land,
An Admiral on the seas.
And if Ambition can ask more,
My very title—Governor—
A princely pride creates,
Because it gives me kindred claims
To greatness with those glorious names
A Sancho and a Yates!

As party spirit has departed,
This life to breathe and blast no more,
The patriot and the honest-hearted
Shall form my diplomatic corps.
The wise, the wittiest, the good,
Selected from my band of yore,
My own devoted band, who’ve stood
Beside me, stemming faction’s flood
Like rocks on Ocean’s shore—
Men, who, if now the field were lost,
Again would buckle sword and mail on.
Followed by them, themselves a host,
Haines,⁹⁷ Hurtell, Herring, Pell, and Post,
Judge Miller, Mumford, and Van Wyck,