While right before that awful stand
Guzzling wine sat TILTON.

On Sunday night, while walking down
Bow'ry to the ferry,
TILTON did spy a lager shop
Where the folks were merry,
And saw a sight that op'd his eyes,
For, in that beery vat,
Nine lagers foaming by his side,
Reverend FULTON sat.

With spirit sword bound at his side,
And his hand the hilt on,
Brave FULTON smote at hip and thigh
Of our little TILTON;
Then TILTON took a mighty quill,
Called FULTON a liar,
FULTON took that to his church,
Will he take it higher?

Now TILTON says that FULTON lies,
FULTON says 'tis TILTON;
I wish this epic was told by
HOMER or by MILTON.
_I_ cannot tell which yarn is true,
Nor what each is built on,
But surely there's been lying by
FULTON or else TILTON.