Wether Contempt or pity most I feel
Tis not in words or Numbers to reveal
To See a man so lost to diffidence
To prudence policy or Common sense
To dare a nations feelings thus to wound
And give a scope to impudence profound
But know Genet were men to quit their post
Desert our chief our glory and our boast
Columbias daughters like the greecian dames
Would grasp the helmet and enroll their name
To be his gaurds and form a phalanx bright
That soon would put your Sans Culottes to flight