« 上一頁繼續 »
A grape shot lopp'd his starboard wing,
That chillid not his endeavour:
Wis day-lights clos'd for ever.
To rajse the magic tipple,
For Jack's an honour'd Cripple.
A wreck in port he's towing, Yet while he bled at ev'ry pore,
His darintless heart was glowing.
Which is the magic tipple;
He’lt die an honourd Cripple.
* 4 * * * * * * * *
HUZZA FOR OLD ENGLAND.
She looms like a French man of war,
And cheerly for chasing prepare,
She'll lose way it she yare,
So steadily down on your enemy bear,
She seems making ready to fight,
And see all your matches alight;
Till the battle be done,
Huzza, for old England, huzza.!
THE BATTLE OF TRAFALGAR. OBEDIENT to his country's great command, Led by the guardian angel of our land, The matchless NELSON sought the Spanish shore; And left his country to return no more. Soon as he saw approach the hostile fleet, , His fearless breast with gallant ardor beat; They come, he cried, my glory's now complete ! Firm on the Vict'ry's deck he took his stand, To die or vanquish was his short command; But scarce the banners of the shatter'd fleet, Had crouch'd subniissive at the Victor's feet, When swift a vengeful bullet pierc'd his side : My Country triumphs, l'm content! he cried, And Vict'ry o’er her son hung weeping as he diedai Fame from his dying brow the laurel bore, And flew triumphant to Britannia's shore ; .
But when her sons the dear-bought tropliy view'd, And mark'd it stain'd with Nelson's vital blood, Exulting shouts were chang'u to mournful tears ; Nu voice but Grict's the droopin nation hears, And e'en the vanquish'd foe his deathless ning
And from which I can never depart.
At head-quarters, parade, or at mess, Like a first son of Mars then I seem,
My whole soul is employ'd on Brown Bess. Brown Bess is my joy and delight,
My honour, protection, and pride, Not a moment of comfort I know,
But when I've Brown Bess by my side. The army I'm wedded to now,
And fight for my Country and King; To none but Brown Bess can I bow,
To none but Brown Bess can I sing.
My toast all my comrades can guess ;
Brown Bess is my joy, &vo I he truc British lion is rous'd,
The bumper I give has its charms, For it means as a toast, you must know,
Successto Old England's fain'd arms. This both loyal and constant I prove,
And now the blest theme i confess, Pve a meaning that goes to my love, When a bumper I fill lo Brown Bess.
Brown Bess is my joy, &c
TWO BLANKS TO A PRIZE.
This great truth you should ever premise ;
She has always two blanks to a prize.
From this maxim direct not your eyes;
There are more than two blanks to a prize.
As a friend, give me leave to advise ;
There are fifty-two blanks to a prize.
Or by, merit expect you shall rise,
of a groat; * There are ninety-two blanks to a prize."
Of a shepherd, whose name was Harry,
Who liv'd, &ca.
And dress'd in his best cloaths,
But 'twas a luckless day,
For all his neighbours say, The first of April 'twas, when a courting he wents
to Sally. He swore he lov'd her passing well,
And fain with her would marry;
Hind mark, I pray, what now befel
The love-sick shepherd, Harry;
To wife none else but Sal,
Was fal de ral, lal de ral lal.
Of wealth he had good store,
Few shepherds could boast more; For that alonc, most maids he thought his wife
would gladly be,
So he search'd the village round,
But no where cou'd be found A lass who any answer made, but fal de ral, lal
So bachelors all take warning I pray,
And think of the fate of poor Harry ;
Before you determine to marry.
If you so long stand shilly shally,
Don't expect, &c.
NOBODY COMING TO MARRY ME. LAST night the dogs did bark,
I went to the gate to see ;
But nobody coming to me;
Oh, dear, what shall I do;
Nobody coming to woo.
My mother does nothing but spin;