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. _THE BRAGS OF WASHINGTON._ 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.