THE BRITISH GRENADIERS.

Some talk of Alexander,

And some of Hercules, Of Hector and Lysander

And such great names as these: But of all the world's brave heroes There's none that can compare With a tow, row, row, row, row, row, To the British Grenadier.

Those heroes of antiquity
Ne'er saw a cannon ball;
Nor knew the force of powder

To stay their foes withal;
But our brave boys do know it,
And banish all their fears,

Singing tow, row, row, row, row, row,
For the British Grenadiers.

Whene'er we are commanded
To storm the palisades,
Our leaders march with fusees,
And we with hand-grenades;
We throw them from the glacis
About the enemies' ears,
Singing tow, row, row, row, row, row,

For the British Grenadiers.

And when the siege is over,
We to the town repair;

The townsmen ery "Hurrah! boys!
"Here comes a grenadier!

"Here come the Grenadiers, my boys,

"Who know no doubts or fears;

"Then sing tow, row, row, row, row, row. "To the British Grenadiers."

Then let us fill a bumper

And drink a health to those
Who carry caps and pouches,
And wear the louped clothes;
May they and their commanders
Live happy all their years;

With a tow, row, row, row, row, row,
For the British Grenadiers.

HEARTS OF OAK.

Garrick.

Come cheer up my lads; 'tis to glory we steer,
The prize more than all to an Englishman dear;
To honour we call you, as freemen not slaves,
For who are so free as the sons of the waves!
Heart of oak are our ships;
Heart of oak are our men;
We always are ready;
Steady, boys, steady;

We'll fight and we'll conquer again and again.
We ne'er see our foes, but we wish them to stay;
They never see us but they wish us away:
If they run, why we follow and run them ashore,
For if they won't fight us, we cannot do more.

Heart of oak, &c.

They swear they'll invade us, these terrible foes; They frighten our women, our children, and beaux; But, should their flat bottoms in darkness get o'er, Still Britons they'll find to receive them on shore.

Heart of oak, &c.

*We'll still make them fear, and we'll still make them flee,

And drub 'em on shore, as we drubbed 'em at sea; Then cheer up, my lads, with one heart let us sing, Our soldiers, our sailors, our statesmen, our king. Heart of oak, &c.

Or for these two lines.

Still Britain shall triumph; her ships plough the sea; Her standard be Justice; her watchword "Be Free."

THE ISLAND.

T. Dibdin.

Daddy Neptune one day to Freedom did say,
"If ever I lived upon dry land,

The spot I should hit on should be little Briton:"
Says Freedom, "Why, that's my own Island!"
Oh! what a snug little Island,

A right little, tight little Island!
All the globe round, none can be found
So happy as this little Island.

Julius Cæsar the Roman, who yielded to no man,
Came by water-he couldn't come by land!
And Dane, Pict, and Saxon, their homes turned
their backs on,

And all for the sake of our Island.

Oh! what a snug little Island,

They'd all have a touch at the Island; Some were shot dead;-some of them fled; And some stayed to live on the Island.

Then a very great war-man, called Billy the Norman, Cried, "Hang it, I never liked my land;

It would be much more handy to leave this Normandy, And live on yon beautiful Island."

Says he, "Tis a snug little Island!

Shan't us go visit the Island!"

Hop, skip, and jump- there he was plump,
And he kicked up a dust in the Island.

Yet party deceit helped the Normans to beat;
Of traitors they managed to buy land;
By Dane, Saxon, or Pict, we ne'er had been licked,
Had they stuck to the king of the Island.

Poor Harold, the king of the Island,
He lost both his life and his Island;
That's very true; what could he do?
Like a Briton, he died for his Island.

Then the Spanish Armada set out to invade-a:
Quite sure, if they ever came nigh land,
They couldn't do less than tuck up Queen Bess,
And take their full swing in the Island.

Oh! the poor Queen of the Island;

The drones came to plunder the Island; But snug in her hive, the Queen was alive, And "buzz" was the word in the Island.

These proud puffed-up cakes thought to make ducks and drakes

Of our wealth: but they scarcely could spy land, Ere our Drake had the luck to make their pride duck And stoop to the lads of the Island.

The good wooden walls of the Island;
Huzza! for the lads of the Island;

Foes one by one, let them come on,

But how'd they come off at the Island!

I don't wonder much that the French and the Dutch
Have since oft been tempted to try land;
And I wonder much less they have met no success;
For why should we give up our Island?
Oh! 'tis a wonderful Island!

All of them long for the Island;

Hold a bit there! let 'em take fire and air;
But we'll have the sea and the Island!

Then since Freedom and Neptune have hitherto kept tune

In each saying, "This shall be my land,"

And the men of old England are true to their king

land,

We'd shew them some play for our Island.

We'd fight for our right to the Island,
We'd give them enough of the Island;
Invaders should just bite at the dust,
But not a bit more of the Island.

THE BAY OF BISCAY.

Loud roars the dreadful thunder,
The rain a deluge showers,
The clouds are rent asunder
By lightning's vivid powers;
The night both drear and dark
Our poor devoted bark-

Till next day-there she lay
In the Bay of Biscay, O!

Now dashed upon the billow
Her opening timbers creak;
Each fears a watery pillow;

None stops the dreadful leak;
To cling to slippery shrouds
Each breathless seaman crowds-
As she lay-all the day, &c.

At length the wish'd for morrow Broke through the hazy sky; Absorbed in silent sorrow,

Each heaved a bitter sigh, The dismal wreck to view Struck horror to the crew

As she lay all the day, &c.

The yielding timbers sever,

The pitchy seams are rent,
When heaven all bounteous ever
Its boundless mercy sent;
A sail in sight appears;
We hail her with three cheers-

Now we'll sail-with the gale,
From the Bay of Biscay, O!