This song was variously titled: To Washington From The British Light Infantry. It was published in 1778.
Great Washington, thou mighty son of Mars, Thou thund'ring hero of the rebel wars!
Accept our thanks for all thy favors past; Our special thanks await thee for the last.
Thy proclamation, timely to command The cattle to be fatten'd round the land,
Bespeaks thy generosity, and shows A charity that reaches to thy foes!
And was this order issued for our sakes, To treat us with roast beef and savory steaks?
Or was it for thy rebel train intended? Give 'em the hides, and let their shoes be mended;
Tho' shoes are what they seldom wear of late; 'Twould load their nimble feet with too much weight!
And for the beef - there needs no puffs about it; In short, they must content themselves without it.
We, to reward you for your care and pains, Will visit soon your crowded stalls and plains;
And for your pamper'd cattle write, at large, With bloody bayonets, a full discharge.
We know that we light bobs are tough and hardy, And at a push you'll never find us tardy,
We have a stomach both for beef and battle; So, honest whigs, once more, feed well your cattle.
Obey your chiefs command, and then, 'tis plain, We cannot want for beef the next campaign!
And if we want for fighting, be it known, The fault, good neighbors, shall be your own!