Thus fell the strong _Terrible_, bravely and bold, But sixteen survivors the tale can unfold; The French were the victors, tho’ much to their cost, For many brave French were with Englishmen lost. For thus says old Time, ‘Since Queen Elizabeth, I ne’er saw the fellow of brave Captain Death.’ _A NEW SONG (ON BLAKENEY AND BYNG)._ Come all you brave Britons wherever you be, Fill up your glasses to brave Blakeney; O’er a full flowing bowl our voices shall ring, Huzza for brave Blakeney, and God save the King. _Sing tantarara shoot Byng, etc._ Here’s a health to brave Blakeney, so stout and so bold, Who the fort of St. Philip so bravely did hold; Had he been reinforced by Admiral Byng, He’d not yielded St. Philip unto the French King. _Sing tantarara, etc._ And when that he came unto the British shore, The bells they did ring and the guns they did roar, In a full flowing bowl his valour shall ring, Huzza for brave Blakeney and shoot Mr. Byng. _Sing tantarara, etc._ I had like to have forgot our brave Captain Carr, When Admiral Byng call’d a council of war; He boldly made answer, ‘The King sent all we To defend fort St. Philip, and help brave Blakeney.’ _Sing, etc._ Then he left Admiral B., and away he did steer, In spite of the guns of the great Galissionère, [_sic_] In the fort of St. Philip he landed his men, And sank the brave _Dolphin_ in the harbour then. _Sing, etc._ So God save our admirals who are loyal and right, For their King and country like Blakeney they’ll fight. And those who are treach’rous in a halter let swing, Huzza for brave Blakeney, and God save the King. _Sing, etc._ _THE LETTER OF A CERTAIN ADMIRAL._ Mr. Cleveland, I pray, to their lordships you’ll say We are glad and rejoice above measure: When you have read what is writ you, you’ll laugh till it split you, And so give me joy of my pleasure. We’d a wind, you must know, as fair as could blow, And therefore in days just eleven, We had sail’d from the shore, full ten leagues or more, And saw nought but the ocean and heaven. Then seventeen ships came licking their lips. And crying out, ‘Fee, faw and fum’; Bigger each than Saint Paul; guns, the devil and all; And, egad, looking wondrous glum. But no matter for that, who says pit-a-pat? We tack’d, and we stood to the weather; We tack’d quite about, right and left, brave and stout, And so we were sideways together. Souls five score and two, maugre all they could do, We took in a tartan alive; Six hundred did sail in the vessel so frail, But our hundred had eat up the five.