Draw near, ye gallant seamen, while I the truth unfold Of as gallant a naval victory as ever yet was told. The second day of April last, upon the Baltic main, Parker, Nelson, and their brave tars fresh laurels there did gain. _With their thundering and roaring, rattling and roaring, Thundering and roaring bombs._ Gallant Nelson volunteer’d himself, with twelve sail form’d a line, And in the Road of Copenhagen he began his grand design; His tars, with usual courage, their valour did display, And destroy’d the Danish navy upon that glorious day. _With their, etc._ With strong floating batteries in van and rear we find, The enemy in centre had six ships of the line-- At ten that glorious morning the fight begun, it’s true; We Copenhagen set on fire, my boys, before the clock struck two. _With their, etc._ When this armament we had destroy’d, we anchor’d near the town, And with our bombs were fully bent to burn their city down; Revenge for poor Matilda’s wrongs our seamen swore they’d have; But they sent a flag of truce on board, their city for to save. _With their, etc._ For the loss of his eye and arm, bold Nelson does declare, The foes of his country not an inch of them he’ll spare; The Danes he’s made to rue the day that they ever Paul did join, Eight ships he burnt, four he sunk, and took six of the line. _With their, etc._ Now drink a health to gallant Nelson, the wonder of the world, Who, in defence of his country, his thunder loud has hurled; And to his bold and valiant tars who plough the raging sea, And who never were afraid to face the daring enemy. _With their, etc._ _A NEW SONG COMPOSED BY THE WOUNDED TARS AT THE SIEGE OF BOULOGNE._ On the second day of August, eighteen hundred and one, We sailed with Lord Nelson to the port of Boulogne, For to cut out their shipping, which was all in vain-- To our great misfortune, they were all moored with chain. Our boats being well manned, by eleven at night, To cut out their shipping, not expecting they would fight; But the grape from their batteries so smartly did play, Nine hundred brave seamen killed and wounded did lay. We hoisted our colours, and boldly them spread, With the British flag flying at the royal mast-head; For the honour of England we will always maintain, While bold British seamen plough the watery main. Exposed to the fire of the enemy we lay, While ninety bright pieces of cannon did play; There many brave seamen then lay in their gore, And the shot from their batteries most smartly did pour. Our noble commander, with his heart full of grief, Used every endeavour to afford us relief; No ship could assist us, as well he did know, In this wounded condition we were toss’d to and fro.