You thought our frigates were but few and Yankees could not fight, Until brave Hull your _Guerrière_ took and banished her from your sight. The _Wasp_ then took your _Frolic_, we’ll nothing say to that-- The _Poictiers_ being of the line, of course she took her back. The next, your _Macedonian_, no finer ship could swim, Decatur took her gilt-work off, and then he sent her in. The _Java_ by a Yankee ship was sunk, you all must know; The _Peacock_ fine, in all her plume, by Lawrence down did go. Then next you sent your _Boxer_ to box us all about, But we had an _Enterprising_ brig that beat your _Boxer_ out; We boxed her up to Portland and moored her off the town, To show the sons of liberty the _Boxer_ of renown. The next upon Lake Erie, where Perry had some fun, You own he beat your naval force, and caused them for to run; This was to you a sore defeat, the like ne’er known before-- Your British squadron beat complete--some took, some run ashore. There’s Rogers, in the _President_, will burn, sink and destroy; The _Congress_, on the Brazil coast, your commerce will annoy; The _Essex_, in the South Seas, will put out all your lights, The flag she waves at her mast-head--‘Free Trade and Sailors’ Rights.’ Lament, ye sons of Britain, far distant is the day When you’ll regain by British force what you’ve lost in America; Go tell your King and Parliament, by all the world ’tis known That British force by sea and land by Yankees is o’erthrown. Use every endeavour, and strive to make a peace, For Yankee ships are building fast, their navy to increase; They will enforce their commerce, the laws by heaven are made That Yankee ships in time of peace to any port may trade. _THE CONSTITUTION AND GUERRIÈRE._ Air--_The Landlady of France_. It oft-times has been told That the British seamen bold Could flog the tars of France So neat and handy, O! But they never met their match Till the Yankees did them catch,-- Oh! the Yankee boy for fighting Is the dandy, O! The _Guerrière_, a frigate bold, On the foaming ocean roll’d, Commanded by proud Dacres, All the grandee, O! With as choice a British crew As a rammer ever drew,-- They could flog the French men, two to one So handy, O! When this frigate bore in view, Says proud Dacres to his crew: ‘Come! clear the ship for action And be handy, O! To the weather-gage, boys, get her!’-- And to make his men fight better Gave them gunpowder to drink Mixed with brandy, O! Then Dacres loudly cries, ‘Make this Yankee ship your prize,-- You can in thirty minutes, Neat and handy, O! Twenty-five’s enough, I’m sure; And if you do it in a score I’ll treat you to a double share Of brandy, O!’