Is it not that the land might be defended By a victorious hand? tho’ France intended To lay a heavy yoke on a free nation, Boys, let a fatal stroke prove their vexation! But yet methinks I hear some cowards crying, The press they dread and fear as much as dying, And sculk, like frighted slaves, here in distraction, To hide in dens and caves from warlike action. Yet some declare they’d fight, but a dear mother, Who counts him her delight above all other, She loves him as her life; parting would grieve her: Another has a wife, he’s loath to leave her. Thus cowards they can find excuses many To tarry here behind; yet there’s not any Right valiant noble soul heeds a relation, He’ll fight against controul for this his nation. Has not men wish’d and cry’d, ‘A war with France!’ boys, That on the ocean wide we may advance, boys? To storm and shake their throne, no danger fearing: This still has been their tone oft in my hearing. Where are those heroes now, those sons of thunder, That would make Lewis bow and bring him under? Your wishes now you have, France is the center; Like seamen stout and brave, boys, freely venture! In a fight fierce and hot once was I wounded; We receiv’d showrs of shot, being surrounded; Yet I again will go, and scorn to hide me; I’ll face the daring foe, what e’er betide me. He that has been in fight fears not another; He leaves with much delight father and mother, To embrace those true joys which men admire; We can be merry, boys, in smoak and fire. If we the conquest gain, that brings promotion; If we by chance are slain, then the wide ocean Shall be our watry tomb, near Neptune’s palace. This, boys, shall be our doom, in spite of malice. _THE UNDAUNTED SEAMAN_, Who resolved to fight for his King and country; together with his love’s sorrowful lamentation at their departure. To the Tune of _I often for my Jenny strove_. ‘My love, I come to take my leave, yet prithee do not sigh and grieve, On the wide ocean I will fight, for to maintain the nation’s right: Under noble chief commanders I resolve to take my chance; _On board I’ll enter, life I’ll venture, to subdue the pride of France_.’ ‘My dear,’ said she, ‘be not unkind, I shall no peace nor comfort find; My very heart will break for thee, if thus we must divided be: While thou art with foes surrounded, where the loud-mouth’d cannons roar, _This warlike action breeds distraction, I shall never see you more_.’ ‘Let no such fear attend my dear, I hope to be as safe as here; For King and country’s good I’ll stand, and vow to fight with heart and hand. None but cowards fear to venture, freely will I take my chance; _On board I’ll enter, life I’ll venture, to subdue the pride of France_.’