Tune, The Lilies of France.
Ye bold British tars, who to glory are free,
Who dare venture your lives for your fortunes at sea,
Yourself for a while of your pleasures disrobe,
And attend to a tale of a voyage round the globe,
For the Dolphin's return'd, and such tidings does bring
As may welcome us home to our country and king.
The twenty'th of August, the year sixty-six,
By command of our captain the signal we fix ;
In the Sound of old Plymouth our ship we unmoor'd
With our consort the Swallow, and transport well stor'd;
But now we're return'd, and such tidings we bring
[As may welcome us home to our country and king].
The wind being far the next day we set sail,
Blest at once with a fresh and prosperous gale;
And straightway our course for Madeira we steer'd.
No danger we saw, and no hardship we fear'd;
For we sail'd round the world such tidings to bring
As might welcome us home to our country and king.
We touch'd at Madeira, St. Jago likewise,
For the sake of fresh water and other supplies;
But at neither of these could we make any stay,
For the course of our voyage would admit no delay.
We were bound round the world such tidings to bring
As might welcome us home to our country and king.
When Magellan's Straits we first enter'd we found
Such giants of men that in all the world round
None with them could compare or for size or for height,
For the smallest of these were from six feet to eight.
Yet these are but trifles of tidings to bring;
We've a present more worthy our country and king.
In Port Famine we anchor'd, and took in our store
Of both water and wood, for it yielded no more.
Discharging our store ship, our anchors we weigh'd,
And we work'd through the Straits; no time we delay'd;
But now are return'd, and such tidings we bring
As may welcome us home to our country and king.
A tedious long passage it was for to go,
With our consort so dull that we took her in tow,
But on April the 12th we got clear of the Straits;
Tho' the Swallow, we fear, a [much] longer time waits,
Yet we are return'd, and such tidings we bring
As may welcome us home to our country and king.
Then we plow'd the South Ocean, such [land] to discover
As amongst other nations has made such a pother.
We found it, my boys, and with joy be it told,
For beauty such islands you ne'er did behold.
We've the pleasure ourselves the tidings to bring
As may welcome us home to our country and king.
For wood, water, fruit, and provision well stor'd
Such an isle as King George's the world can't afford,
For to each of these islands great Wallis gave name,
Which will e'er be recorded in annals of fame.
We'd the fortune to find them, and homeward to bring
The tidings a tribute to country and king.
Come, all you brave seamen and landsmen likewise,
That have got an inclination your fortunes to rise,
That have got an inclination to fight the proud Bostonians,
And soon we'll let you know that we are the sons of Britain.
Fal lal, etc.
As for the brags of Washington, that never can be ;
There is Carlton and Clinton have shewn their bravery;
There is Darby and Rodney, commanders of the ocean,
And many a brave fellow is waiting for promotion.
And if we meet a privateer, or a lofty man of war,
We never stand to wrangle, to jangle, or to jar;
We give them a broadside, and say, 'My lads, take care, O,
And keep your proper distance from an English man-of-war, O.'
And if they will not fight us, but from us run away,
All with our heavy chain-shot we'll cut their masts away,
And if they will not yield to us, nor unto us surrender,
We'll split their ship in pieces and to the bottom send her.
As for the brags of Washington, we care not a pin ;
We will fire at his breastworks and make him let us in;
Our bomb-shells and cannons shall roar like mighty thunder,
And by our constant firing we will make them to surrender.
And when the wars are over, if fortune saves our lives,
We will bring great store of riches to our sweethearts and our wives,
And drink a health unto the lad that has a heart to enter;
That man can never gain a prize that is afraid to venture.
ON THE LATE ENGAGEMENT IN CHARLES TOWN RIVER.
Good people of Old England, come, listen unto me,
All you who live at home at ease, and from all dangers free,
What I'm a-going to mention, and to you shall declare,
Concerning part of our fleet as they a-cruising were.
It is of a late action, as for a truth we hear,
As part of our British fleet for Charles Town they did steer ;
As we the river sailed along the provincials they begun;
The Bristol, most unfortunate, she on the bar did run.
Then from the town and batteries they fired on us amain
With red-hot shot all from the shore, on board of us they came;
And seeing us lie on the bar, their intentions was so,
Our gallant ship for to blow up and prove our overthrow.
But thro' God's Providence so great prevented their desire,
Tho' with their shot, that came so hot, they set us twice on fire;
But soon we out the flames did put, our gallant seamen brave
They did their best endeavours their precious lives to save.
The gallant Bristol well behaved, tho' she was in distress,
And all the ships in company kept firing in excess.
Our cannons briskly we dis[charged], our shot like hail did pour,
Amongst the blacks and Indians so numerous on the shore.
We drove them from their batteries, and made them to retreat,
Likewise the town soon shattered with our gallant fleet;
We gave them a warm reception, and that they knew so well,
Because against Old England great they strongly did rebel.
We engaged many hours, for the best part of the day;
Our brave commander he was kill'd all in the bloody fray;
Two hundred more brave men were kill'd, th' engagement prov'd
Upon the decks, poor souls, they lay, all in their purple gore.
Now to conclude and make an end, Lord, send it was all o'er,
In love and unity to live as we have done before;
Success unto all Britons bold, that's both by land or sea,
Who now is venturing their lives in North America.
Bold Clinton by land
Did quietly stand
While I made a thundering clatter ;
But the channel was deep,
So he only could peep
And not venture over the water.
De'el take 'em; their shot
Came so swift and so hot,
And the cowardly dogs stood so stiff, sirs,
That I put ship about,
And was glad to get out,
Or they would not have left me a skiff, sirs.
Now bold as a Turk
I proceed to New York,
Where with Clinton and Howe you may find me.
I've the wind in my tail,
And am hoisting my sail,
To leave Sullivan's Island behind me.
But, my lords, do not fear,
For before the next year,
Although a small island could fret us,
The continent whole
We shall take, by my soul,
If the cowardly Yankees will let us.
A NEW SONG, ADAPTED TO THE TIMES.
[To the Tune of A Hunting we will go != The Dusky Night.']
Behold, upon the swelling wave, with streaming pendants gay,
Our gallant ship invites the brave, while glory leads the way.
And a cruising we will go, oho! oho! oho!
A cruising we will go, oho I and a-cruising we will go
Ye beauteous maids, your smiles bestow; for if you prove unkind How can we hope to beat the foe? We leave our hearts behind. When a cruising we shall go, oho! oho! oho! etc.
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