His noble messmate, Fred. of Dover,

Dropt o'er his lifeless trunk a sigh; And when the bloody fight was over,

A shower of crystal tears let fly.


The battle ceas'd, to clear each deck,

A shocking picture to review; In one short hour what a wreck!

Of young--of old-of Britons too. Tom's scatter'd members laid together,

In a coarse shroud encompass'd were, Committed to the deep for ever,

While Fred. was off'ring up a pray’r.

The rebels so bold, when there's none to oppose;
To houses and hay-stacks are terrible foes :
They murder poor parsons, and likewise their

At the sight of a soldier they run for their lives;
Whenever we march through country or town,
Ia ditches and cellars the croppies lie down.
United in blood to their country's disgrace,
They secretly shoot those they dare not to face;
But whenever we catch the sly rogues in the field,
A handful of soldiers make hundreds to yield.
The cowards collect but to raise our renown;
For as soon as we fire the croppies lie down.
While thus in the war so unmanly they wage,
On women, dear women, they turn their damn'd

rage, We'll fly to protect the dear creatures from harms, They'll be sure to find safety when clasp'd in our

arms; On love in a soldier no maiden will frown, But bless the brave troops that made croppies lie

down. Should France e'er attempt by force or by guile, Her forces to land on old Erin's sweet isle, We'll shew that they ne'er can make free soldiers

slaves, They shall only possess our green fields for their

graves : Our country's applauses our triumphis will crown, Whilst with their French brothers the croppies lie down.


When wars and when dangers again shall be o'er, And peace with her blessings revisit our shore; When arms we relinquish, no longer to roam, With pride our families welcome us home, They'll drink in full bumpers, past troubles to

drown, A health to the lads that made croppies lie down.

THEN on board our trim vessel we joy-

ously sail'd, And the glass it went round in full glee, King and country to serve my old friend never

fail'd, And the toast was soon toss'd off by ine; Let billows dash, and fierce lightning Aash,

'Twas the same to us buth while at sea.

If a too powerful foe in our track chanc'd to pass,

We resolv'd for to live and die free, Quick we number berguns, then both take a glass,

Then a broadside we give her with three; Cannons let roar, echo'd from ashore,

'Twas the same to us boys when at sea.

But a cannon ball one day on a fight,

From the deck knock'd him into the sea, So he died as he liv'd, for his country and right,

And may this be the end tov of ine; Cannons lét roar, echo'd from ashore, For the grave of a sailor's the sea.



WHEN Placebus begins just to peep o'er the

With horns we awaken the day; And rouse brother sportsmen,who sluggishlysleep,

With hark! to the woods! hark ! away! See the hounds are unconpled in musical cry,

How sweetly it echoes around; And high mettled steeds with their neighings all

With pleasure to echo the sound. Behold where sly Reynard, with panic and dread,

At distance o'er hillocks doth bound ! The pack on the scent fly with rapid career;

Hark! the horns! O how sweetly they sound! Now on to the chace, o'er hills and o'er dales,

All dangers we nobly defy;
Our nags are all stout, and our sports we'll pursue,

With shouts that resound to the sky.
But see how he lags, all his arts are in vain,

No longer with swiftness he flies:
Each hound in his fury determines his fate;

The traitor is seiz'd on and dies.
With shouting and joy we return to the field,

With drink crown the sports of the day; Then to rest we recline, till the horn calls agaio ;

Then away to the woodlands, away.

VHERE the rising forest spreads

Shelter for the lordly dome, To their high-built airy beds,

See the rooks returning home.


As the larks, with varied tune,

Carol to the evening loud : Mark the mild resplendent moon

Breaking thro' a parting cloud. Tripping thro' the silken grass,

O'er the path-divided dale, Mark the rose-complexion'd lass,

With her well-pois'd milken pail : Linnets with unnumber'd notes,

And the cuckow bird with two : Tuning sweet their mellow throats,

Bid the setting sun adieu.

"TWAS WWAS Saturday night, the twinkling stars

Shone on the rippling sea :
No duty cali'd the jovial tars,

The heim was lash 'd a lee.
The ample can adorn’d the board;

Prepard to see it out,
Each gave the lass that he ador'd,
And push'd the grog about.

And push'd, &c.

Cried honest Tom, my Peg I'll toast,

A frigate neat and trii,
All jolly Portsmouth's favourite boast :

I'd venture life and limb,
Sail seven long years, and ne'er see land,

With dauntless heart and stout,
So tight a vessel to command :
Then push the grog


P 2


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