DUNCAN AND VICTORY. GAIN the willing trump of fame And wake with wonder the terrestrial Strike shudd'ring France, and harrow'd Spain, October the eleventh, at nine, Should from our ever-conquering flag be torn, Bade Duncan's thunder great Britannia's reign Fate warr'd on that momentous day- A SALT EEL FOR MYNHEER. HY, Jack, my fine fellow, here's glorious news Lord, I could have told 'em as much; That the devil himself durst not stand in their shoes If Duncan fell in with the Dutch! What heart in the kingdom can now feel dismay? Nine sail of the line!-not amiss; While they shrug up their shoulders and snuff away, No! while English bosoms boast English hearts, While with ardour each starts that nothing can We'll bang the Spaniards, Belabour the Dutch, And block up and laugh at the French. Now the French while in harbour so snug and so sly, Lest from Bridport they get such another salt eel, Let French, Spanish, and Dutch lay together their heads, And of beating the English brag; That they'll sail up the Thames, take us all in our beds, And hoist on the Tower their flag: "Oui, oui," cries Mounseer; "Si, Signor," says the Don; Mynheer smokes his pipe and cries "Yaw;" But when Jervis, or Duncan, or Bridport come on, They are damnably sick in the craw. No, while, &c. Your true honest maxim I've heard them commend, Is the nation you live in to sing : Where your property, children, your wife, and your friend, Are the care of their father the King; The man then, so bless'd, who disseminates strife, Neither king to protect him, to love him a wife, No, while, &c. TACK AND TACK. DIEU, my gallant sailor! obey thy duty's call, Though false the sea, there's truth ashore; Till nature is found changing, thou'rt sure of constant Poll: And yet, as now, we sever, Ah! much I fear that never Jack kiss'd her, hitch'd his trowsers, and hied him to begone, Weigh'd anchor, and lost sight of shore: Next day a brisk south-wester a heavy gale brought on: "Adieu," cried Jack, "for ever, For much I fear that never Shall I, sweet Poll, behold you more." Poll heard that to the bottom was sunk her honest tar, And for a while lamented sore; At length, cried she, "I'll marry; what should I tarry for? I lead apes may for ever; Jack's gone, and never, never Shall I, alas, behold him more!" Jack safe and sound returning, sought out his faithful Poll: "Think you," cried she, "that false I swore? I'm constant still as ever-'tis nature's changed, that's all; And thus we part for ever, For never, sailor, never Shall I behold you more!" "If, as you say, that nature, like winds, can shift and veer, About-ship for a kinder shore; I heard the trick you play'd me, and so, d'ye see, my dear, To a kind heart for ever I've spliced myself, so never Shall I, false Poll, behold you more." TIGHT LADS OF THE OCEAN. SING of that life of delight beyond measure, That tars calmly lead on the boisterous main ; Where toil is enjoyment, where trouble's all pleasure, And where men lose their lives, a sure fortune to gain; Where you fear no diseases but sickness and scurvy ; Where the water stinks sweetly by way of a zest ; Where you walk on your legs, when you're not topsyturvy; And where, though you sleep soundly, you're never at rest! Then push round the can-oh! you have not a notion Of sailors, their grog, and their sweethearts and wives! Ah! give me, my soul, the tight lads of the ocean, Who, though they're so wretched, lead such happy lives. Then you're always of billows and winds in the middle, That so dash, and so whistle, and bodder your ears, And play a duet with the tar's song and fiddle, So sweetly that sounds, and that nobody hears: Then to see the tight lads, how they laugh at a stranger Who fears billows can drown, and nine-pounders can kill! For you're safe, sure enough, were you not in such danger, And might loll at your ease, if you could but sit still, Then push round the can, &c. |