5

Of their Trident our Devonshire came alongside,
And souse! in her guts, such a dose did she hide,
That the rummaging pills almost work'd her to death,
For she soon, like the Severn, lay gasping for breath.
Then bounce! came their Terrible-foul on a Tartar;
But she too sung small, till she cry'd out for quarter.
Then bounce! came their Terrible, etc.

6

Now shatter'd and batter'd (Morbleu ! such a sight!)
Their Thunder knock'd under, and stole off by night;
When six of their squadron, that scarcely could creep,
We lugg'd and tugg'd home, in our harbours to sleep.
And so large were their hulks, tho' we ply'd 'em with rubbing,
To be sure their thick hides took a good deal of drubbing.
And so large were their hulks, etc.

7

And now, the next year, when the prizes we've made

By our own hands are mann'd out, we'll drive a French trade; While the sea is our market, for squadrons we'll barter,

And give for first rates only bullets and quarter !

So, Huzzah! to King George, boys; long, long may he reign, By the right of old England, long lord of the main.

So, Huzzah! etc.

8

While our salt water walls so begird us about,

And our cruisers, and bruisers, keep good looking out,
What force need old England to fear can offend her,
From France, or from Spain, or a Popish Pretender?
So, Huzzah! to King George, boys; long, long may he reign,
By the right of old England, long lord of the main.

So Huzzah! etc.

A NEW SONG ON ADMIRAL KNOWLS TAKING PORT LOUIS.

Tune of Duke of Lorain and the Princess Royal.

Let every loyal Briton sing
Prosperity to George our King;
He that refuses let him swing,
As many has done before him;
But I shall raise my chearfull voice,

Let Englishmen with me rejoice,

For valiant Knowls, huzza! brave boys,
The sailor does admire.

Hispaniola and Louis Port

Afforded Englishmen brave sport.

Brave news, brave news for the British Court,
Those places both are taken;
We've taken Pondicherry too.
Another scene appears in view:
Jago de Cuba soon must rue,
If I am not mistaken.

It is such valiant acts as these

That makes Mounsieur cry out for peace:
Morblue hostilities pray cease

And I'll return all Flanders !

Let all true Britons fill their bowls,

A health to that hero Admiral Knowls,

A health to our Brittish sailors bold

That fought with this brave comander.

Another glass to the sailors brave

That with him such proofs of valour gave;
Confusion to the rebel slave

That does refuse to drink it!

Let all true Britons fill their bowls :

A health to hero Admiral Knowls,

A health to our British sailors bold

That fought with this brave commander.

A NEW SONG.

Sung by HANNAH SNELL, alias JAMES GRAY, at the New-Wells Goodman's Fields.

Tune of Come and listen to my Ditty, etc.

I.

All ye noble British spirits that midst dangers glory sought,
Let it lessen not your merit that a woman bravely fought:
Cupid slily first inroll'd me, Pallas next her force did bring,
Press'd my heart to venture boldly for my love and for my King.

II.

Sailorlike, to fear a stranger, straight I ventured on the main,
Facing death and every danger, love and glory to obtain ;
Tell me, you who hear my story, what could more my courage
move?—

George's name inspired with glory, William was the man I lov❜d.

III.

When from William Susan parted she but wept and shook her hand;

I, more bold (tho' tender-hearted), left my friends and native land;

Bravely by his side, maintaining British rights, I shed my blood, Still to him unknown remaining, watch'd to serve and do him

good.

IV.

In the midst of blood and slaughter, bravely fighting for my King,

Facing death from every quarter, fame and conquest home to

bring;

Sure you'll own 'tis more than common, and the world proclaim

it too,

Never yet did any woman more for love and glory do.

THE LIGHTERMAN'S PRENTICE PREST AND SENT TO SEA.

A prentice I was at Wapping-new-stairs,

And a smart young lad was I;

But that old blackguard old W―d,

He inform'd, and had forty shillings for me.

It was on the last day of February,

In the year of fifty-five :

He had me taken out of bed;

When my friends heard it, lord! how they cry'd.
My mother and my cousin both

They on board of the tender came with speed,
And thro' the grates to them I talk'd,

It was enough to make any heart to bleed.
My mother and my cousin both,

They in a boat did go ashore.

Then from the Tower we set sail,

For the Yarmouth rideing at the Nore.
In happen'd on a Sunday morning

We arrived at the Nore;

The commodore fir'd his signal gun

For the women all to go ashore.

And when unto the ship I went,

They put me in a great surprize;

There I heard some swearing and some cursing,
And some damning their precious eyes,

To think that the commodore fir'd his signal

For all their wives to go ashore;

There was some crying and some sniffling,

Crying 'My dear, I shall see you no more.'
Then from the Nore we did set sail,
And unto Spithead we was bound.
It was a pretty sight to see

The lasses lin'd round Portsmouth town.
Then from the Yarmouth I was sent
On board of Captain, so-call'd by name;
There I fell sick on board of her,

And to Gosport hospital sent for the same.
There for three long months I stay'd,
And very bad I was indeed;
But I got well and away I went
On board of the Captain with speed.
I had not been on board her long

Before the fleet they all did sail,
From Spithead to St. Helens, boys,
With a fine and pleasant gale.

And when to St. Helens, boys, we came,
The wind at west was very high;
Sir Edward Hawke hove out his signal,
For to come to anchor that very night.
Sir Edward he hove out another signal,
For the captain's boat to come with speed,
It was for to turn over fifty hands,
On board of the Ipswich indeed.

And when alongside of the Ipswich we came,
I boldly in her jump'd in :

And a-cruizing the Channel I went in her,
And the French dogs we did sweetly trim.
We'd not been out above six weeks
Before the news to us was brought :
Then to take, sink, burn, and destroy
All the French ships we came athwart.
It happen'd on a Sunday morning,
As we was on our starboard tack,
Between the hours of nine and ten,
Three sail of Frenchmen we did take.
We fir'd a shot and hoisted our colours,
Then to let them see what we was;
As soon as they came along side us

They saw we was English boys,

'Then straitway they haul'd down their colours,

And unto us they did strike;

And they know'd that they must sink,

If they had offer'd for to fight.

We took five more, which made us eight,

And away to Spithead, boys, we went.

And now, my lads, we're come to an harbour,
We can go to rest with great content.
So all young men that row in the lighters
Keep yourselves free from a press-gang,
And when ever you come athwart old W-
For my sake give him a hearty damn.

-d