REAR ADMIRAL SIMS

A Dukedom, and not one the worse for wear,

Has Sims well earned by service to the King.

‘ Tis said at court, Howe's spirit following

The ocean still, found Sims his natural heir

And said: “Swap souls; and, that the swap be fair,

Give me to boot, the bone of Freedom's wing,

To make the skyey bird a hobbling thing

In marshes, where the ignisfatus flare.”

The Eagle with his eye and pinion, trained

For mateship with the sun, twitched at a sting.

Amazed to find a “cootie” on his wing,

And that the insect dreamed, it was ordained

By race heredity to serve the King —

He shook his plume and azured, unprofained.