Close your ranks, and each brave soul A grand carouse to the royal Pole, Mahomet was a sober dog, A small-beer, drowsy, senseless rogue, Given 'em leave to carouse in wine, With dull tea they fought in vain, Where sprightly wine fills ev'ry vein, Success must needs attend him. Our brains (like our cannons) warm, With often-firing feels no harm, While the sober sot flies the alarm, Christians thus with conquest crown'd, Conquest with the glass goes round, Weak coffee can't keep its ground Against the force of claret: Whilst we give them thus the foil, And in brisk nectar share it. Infidels are now o'ercome, But the most Christian Turks at home, Since the Poles have led the dance; And if he sends a fleet to France, He's a whig that will not follow. THE YOUNG SEAMAN'S MISFORTUNE: OR, THE FALSE-HEARTED LASS OF LIMEHOUSE. From the Pepys Collection, and reprinted by Evans (Old Ballads, edit. 1810, vol. i. p. 213). To the tune of the Spinning-wheel. You loyal lovers far and near, That live and reign in Cupid's court, While I my sorrows do report: In her I plac'd my chief delight, On board of ship I chanc'd to go, To serve our good and gracious king: Now when she found it must be so, She did her hands in sorrow wring, Yet wedded when I left the shore; My dearest love, she often cry'd, Alas! what will become of me? A thousand solemn vows I made, I'll never trust a woman more. I was obliged to leave the land, And bitterly she did bewail; Yet she another had in store! I'll never trust a woman more. I gave her then a ring of gold, Five months I ploughed the ocean main, But she another had in store! Constancy doth torture me, And make my sorrows most severe; Now must I wander in despair, THE GALLANT SEAMAN'S RETURN FROM THE INDIES: OR THE HAPPY MEETING OF TWO FAITHFUL LOVERS. WHEREIN IS SHEWED THE LOYAL CONSTANCY OF A SEAMAN TO HIS LOVE, WITH HER KIND SALUTATION UNTO HIM FOR HIS WELCOME HOME. Observe this song, which is both neat and pretty, To the tune of Five sail of frigots, or Shrewsbury. [From the Bagford Collection of Old Ballads.] I AM a stout seaman and newly come on shore, I have been absent from her full many a day, Now I am intended, whatever betide, For to go and see her and make her my bride; If that she and I can together agree, I never will love none but pretty Betty. THE GALLANT SEAMAN'S SONG AT HIS MEETING OF BETTY. Well met, pretty Betty, my joy and my dear, I now am returned thy heart for to chear; |