The Cobourgs came from far and near, With their Dispatches, all dirt, A begging for the Russian Bear, To blooming lovely Albert, To keep old Nick, the devil’s limb, And on to Turkey lead him, To massacre the innocent Turks, And rob them of their freedom. Last Monday night, all in a fright, Al, out of bed did tumble, The German lad was raving mad, How he did groan and grumble! He cried to Vic, I’ll cut my stick, To Petersburgh, go right slap, When Vic, ’tis said, jumped out of bed, And whopp’d him with her night cap. There, with the bolster round the room, Vic gave him dreadful lashes, She scratched his face and broke his nose, And pull’d out his moustaches. You German dog, you shall be flogg’d, She halloed like a Prussian, How could you dare to interfere And turn a cursed Russian? Bad luck they say, both night and day, To the Cobugs and all humbugs, The Wirtembugs and Scarem bugs, And all the German house bugs. And the old bug of Aberdeen, The Peterbugs and Prussians, May Providence protect the Turks, And massacre the Russians. You jolly Turks, now go to work, And show the Bear your power-- It’s rumoured over Britain’s isle, That A---- is in the Tower, The Postmen some suspicion had, And openéd two letters, ’Twas pity sad, the German lad, Should not have known much better. Well, now, my friends, to made an end, From tyrants guard your own coast, I’ll tell you what ’tween you and I, The Tower-ditch and the gate post: I think that AL has been used well, Since first he came to England, And had no cause to obstruct the laws, Or in politics be mingling. Let France and England set to work, Shun Austrians and Prussians, Assist the poor and injured Turks, And smother all the Russians. Chain up the Bear, and make him stare, And so I take my Davy, We’ll sing Old England, three times three, The Army and the Navy. _Chorus._ I tell thee AL, we never shall, Although you play’d the deuce then, Allow the Turks to be run down, By the dirty, greasy Russian. _BRAVE NELSON._ THE twenty-first day of October, It being a glorious day, The combin’d fleets of Spain and France, They met at Buzeray. Their number it being thirty three, Bertram chanced them to see. There is twenty seven of them for me, Said brave Nelson. We form’d a line of battle, Our cannons loud did roar, Some we sent into the air, And others down below. But Nelson on the deck so high, Aloud unto his men did cry, This day we conquer or we die, Said brave Nelson.