The pretty little Griffin behaved most manfully,

Like showers of hail from our two ships our fiery balls did fly; The privateers they all three struck to us immediately,

And from their batteries they fir'd, but could not us come nigh.

We turned [unto] their batteries and briskly fired away,

Until their guns and walls, brave boys, came tumbling in the sea;

Their forces they did run for fear, they were so sorely scar'd,
At the pretty little Griffin bold and the Temple man-of-war.

Then further in the harbour two ships we did espy,
Also a strong grand battery, and at them we let fly.

For four days we did stay there, and every night and morn
We did give them a grand salute, and we fired our evening guns.

Two batteries we did then destroy, and five ships took away,
And brought them safe to Guadaloupe, where now they all do
stay.

There is but one [man] kill'd, behold, and five that wounded are, In the pretty little Griffin bold and the Temple man-of-war.

A NEW SONG ON THE TAKING OF HAVANNAH.

Give ear, true Britons to my song, and joyful acclamations;
'Tis the noble deeds now done by our own relations.
While Albemarle did command, Pocock and General Keppel :
Let Moro Fort, and Spaniards vaunt if Britons be unable.

Against Havannah we set sail, with a fleet of combination; Land troops we likewise had on board, to pay off Spain's aggression.

We moor'd our ships, and landed our troops, the Spaniards came down raging;

But they found we were true British boys, as we their fury were swaging.

We chac'd the Spaniards thro' the woods, and hunted them like

mawkin,

And turn'd up hundreds in their fuds, the rest ran homeward quaking.

For though they came in thousands on, our fire would make them scatter,

But we true Britons kept our ground, while blood did run like

water.

The Spaniards judg'd the Moro's fort the Briton's strength would banter,

But when we blew it up i' the air, they tuned another chanter. Bold Harvey with three noble ships their walls by sea did batter, While we bombarded it on land, and did their out-works clatter.

But never was heard such woful thuds as the Cambridge and Marlborough [did give 'em]

The Dragon fired as brisk as they, but for smoak none could perceive them.

The Cambridge got her captain shot, and a hundred more beside him,

Brave Harvey then his station quit, for five long hours he try'd them.

But finding it bomb and cannon proof, we then did give it over, And sprung a mine below their walls, which split the rocks in shivers.

Some Spaniards went up with the blast, which made their fellows wonder,

Such a hideous roar ne'er heard before, it far exceeded thunder.

Then we approach'd upon a breach, our firelocks cock'd and ready,

Where the Spaniards met us for a brush, imploring on their Lady
To aid Velasco a Spaniard bold, a valiant sea commander,
Who vow'd for to defend his fort, while Marza kept up his
standard.

O, then began the bloody fray, with bayonets and broad swords champing,

Through bones and bellies we made our way, and dying men under us trampling;

Of seven hundred Spaniards here, scarce left alive was eighty, Velasco by his standard fell, whose deeds were counted mighty.

Then to Havannah we did march, and trenches rais'd like

mountains,

Then cut away their water pipes, which supplied them with fresh fountains,

Our batteries then began to play, with roars aloud like thunder, Which dash'd their walls and chimnies down, yet loath for to knock under.

O, then with bombs and fiery balls, threatened their utter ruin, Which rais'd such cries, as pierc'd the skies, for mercy they were

suing.

Juan] de Prado to British tars was loath to be subjected,

But brave Albemarle told him his fate was then to be ransacked,

Or buried in the city's ruin, him and his whole fraternity;
This made him to subjection yield, and so they were disarmed;
All stores and treasures of the place are bought by Briton's glory,
Seven ships, their arms and everything, and that's a noble story.

O, then with honour we lin'd their gates, and bravery to our wishing,

And turn'd Don Spaniard from their posts, which they held by commission;

May our noble King prosper long, and all his brave commanders, Who bravely led on Britain's sons, to knock down popish standards.

LORD ANSON AND HAWKE.

Ye brave British sailors, true sons of the main,
Who scorn to submit to the insults of Spain,

Leave to landsmen their politick schemes and their talk,
And enter on board the Lord Anson and Hawke.

These two noble heroes, whose names our ships bear,

Made the Spaniards to tremble, the Frenchmen to fear;
Secure of success, then, your fortune ne'er balk,
But enter on board the Lord Anson and Hawke.

Let the wise politicians of France and of Spain,

Threat to take from Great Britain her rule o'er the main ;
Their plate ships shall pay for their arrogant talk,

If they come but in sight of the Anson and Hawke.

Q

The wages, the ingots, the wealth of Peru,

The Spaniards are getting and hoarding for you;

You shall ride in your coaches, whilst cowards shall walk,
Who durst not engage in the Anson and Hawke.

Then aboard, my brave lads, and with hearts stout and true,
The road unto riches and glory pursue;

That your wives may dress fine, and your children may talk
Of your noble exploits in the Anson and Hawke.

Here's a health to King George, and his consort so true,
May their laurels sit pleasing and well on their brow;
To Hutchinson and Dickson, who for courage never baulk,
Then fill up your glasses, boys, to the Lord Anson and Hawke.
Huzza, brave boys, the Lord Anson and Hawke.

A NEW SONG ON THE BLANDFORD PRIVATEER.

Ye seamen who've a mind to go in pursuit of new adventures, Repair on board the Blandford, with Captain Stonehouse enter, Who cruizing goes to meet his foes, such pastime sure must please us,

We'll prizes make of all we take ; this will to fortune raise us.

Here is our chief encouragement, our ship belongs to Bristol,
Poor Londoners when coming home, they surely will be press'd

all:

We've no such fear when home we steer with prizes under

convoy,

We'll frolick round all Bristol town, sweet liberty we enjoy.

Why should we here our time delay, in London void of pleasure, Let's haste away to Biscay Bay, and ransack there for treasure. Here we must creep and play bo-peep, to shun the damn'd press masters,

We live in strife, even die in life, confin'd by catch-pole bastards.

A health to Captain Stonehouse, success attend the Blandford, Five guineas is advanced us, come then let us enter on board; With the Blandford's guns we'll smoak the Dons, their ragged staff we'll humble,

Jack Frenchmen too shall cry morbleu, we'll give them cause to grumble.

Come fill your flowing glasses, let us drink and be merry;
Take leave of all your lasses, we can no longer tarry ;

Girls, never fear, ye soon shall hear of the Blandford's safe arrival,

To Bristol town then haste ye down, your sweethearts to revive all.

THE SAILORS' DIALOGUE.

Tune, Gossip Joan.

TOM.

How goes it, brother Jack? You are grown such a beau now, Had I but seen your back damn me if I had known you,

JACK.

Brother Jack.

What cheer, old messmate Tom? You look as if you'd cry now; But I have news from home will make you jump mast high now, Messmate Tom.

Since our brave towering Hawke has shown the French his talons, 'Twill soon be peace they talk; if so we'll drink off gallons To brave Hawke.

TOM.

Huzza! my hearty cock! For this news damn all sorrow,
I'll pawn my shirt and frock, but I'll get drunk to-morrow,
Hearty cock!

JACK.

When all the ship are paid we'll lead a merry life, boy;
Blood! then how we'll parade with ev'ry one his wife, boy,
When we're paid.