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.

Each messenger of death flew fast,
More dreadful still the conflict grew.
Hold! See-she sinks-down comes her mast;
A broadside from the hull anew.
But 'twas our duty, be't recounted,
Tho' blood immers'd our very knees;
Those souls of envy have surmounted
What makes them worthy of the seas.

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.

WE

E soldiers of Erin, so proud of the name, We'll raise upon rebels and Frenchmen our fame;

We'll fight to the last in the honest old cause, And guard our religion, our freedom, and laws; We'll fight for our country, our king, and his

crown,

And make all the traitors and croppies lie down.

The

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
wives,

At the sight of a soldier they run for their lives;
Whenever we march through country or town,
In 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 triumphs will crown, Whilst with their French brothers the croppies

lie down.

When

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.

W

"HEN on board our trim vessel we joyously 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 me; Let billows dash, and fierce lightning flash, 'Twas the same to us both 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 her guns, 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 too of me;
Cannons let roar, echo'd from ashore,
For the grave of a sailor's the sea.

WHEN Phoebus begins just to peep o'er the

hills,

With horns we awaken the day;

And rouse brother sportsmen, who sluggishly sleep,
With hark! to the woods! hark! away!
See the hounds are uncoupled in musical
How sweetly it echoes around;

cry,

And high mettled steeds with their neighings all

seem

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 again;
Then away to the woodlands, away.

WHERE the rising forest spreads
Shelter for the lordly dome,

To their high-built airy beds,
See the rooks returning home.

As

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

TWAS Saturday night, the twinkling stars
Shone on the rippling sea:

No duty call'd the jovial tars,

The heim was lash d a lee.

The ample can adorn'd the board;
Prepar'd 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 trim,

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 about.