Wars > Wars in India

      THE SIEGE OF DELHI :

  OR, THE INDIAN MASSACRE.

         Tune, "CHEER BOYS, CHEER."

Hark! what sound is that ? It is the siege of Delhi,
It strikes terror to all British hearts ; such crimes they
do abhor
In India's fair isle there's bloodshed and commotion,
Children cry for mercy, there's mutiny and war.
Treachery it does abound, through every town and city;
Foul Murder it now stalks abroad, in distant climes afar,
No help is there, the cry is great, poor souls we do pity
them,
Husbands and wives are butchered, in this great Indian
war.

So on, lads, on, it is for England's glory,
Your sisters cries for mercy is echoed near
and far ;
Such slaughter never equalled in history or
story,
Your brothers' cry for vengeance on India's
fair shore.

The Sepoys have revolted in Delhi's fair city.
They to each other spread the news that Mahomet
Now must Reign
Alas ! the poor Europeans, we one and all must pity,
Wives flying from their happy homes, to see their
husbands slain,
Some drove naked through the streets, ravished and
insulted,
Mothers take their infants and fly, but all in vain :
It was an awful day when India revolted,
Men, women, and young children, by these butchers
they were slain.
So on, lads, on, &c.

Have vengeance for this massacre, you brave British
soldiers,
Think of your wives and children you clasp unto your
arms,
For humanity and bravery, nono was ever bolder ;
You are now once more called again, to mix in war's
stains.
While fighting on for glory, think of those butchered
children,
That were slaughtered inch by inch, while sucking at
the breast,
It is dreadful to be thought, such dreadful slaughter
mingling.
With Colin Campbell at your head, go forth and do
your best.
So on, Jads, on, &c.

Children dashed unto the earth—the mother cries for
mercy,
They kneel and supplicate, and ask the aid of heaven,
It is not pleaded by those fiends, their screams doth
rend the sky,
Their breasts are now cut from them,—this is the
mercy given.
Their bleeding forms lay on the earth, in vain their
supplications,
Their husband tied unto a stake, and burnt before
their eyes ;
For reinforcements now, they are full of expectation,
Let's hope that all good Englishmen, will answer to
their cries.
So on, lads, on, &c.

When Sir Colin Campbell was asked to go, he, like a
Gallant Soldier,
Said he had long been waiting to fight his Country's
cause ;               
Of all the Generals' we have had, there never was one
bolder,
We'd go and fight those Sepoys, that broke their
Country's Laws.
At one moments notice, he was up and ready,
He says my own dear Countrymen, they do for ven-
geance cry.
He buckled on his sword, so valiant and so steady,
And scarcely stopped one moment, to bid his friends
good bye.
So on, lads, on, &c.

Without the walls of Delhi, our Englishmen encamp-
ing,
They swore vengeance on the Rebels, that causd ethem
so much pain ;
Tired and footsore, o'er hill and dale are tramping,
Until they do get vengeance, till death they will remain,
They picture to themselves, the sights of blood and
murder,
Their officers and comrades, for revenge their blood
does cry ;
Their wrongs will be redressed, from the infant to the
father,
For ravishing our daughters ; no quarters ! they must
die.
So on, lads, on, &c.

Success attend our soldiers, that's again called to action,
Although they have scarce returned from Russia's
gory plain,
They come home, crowned with Laurels, they gave
such satisfaction,
They must go and leave there families ; and the war-
rior fight again,
The Sepoys now must tremble, no mercy will be shown
them,
For in the midst of war's alarms, they hear the fe-
males cry,
Think of those little innocents, may God in glory
crown them,
Go forth all you brave English hearts, to conquer or
to die.

Then fight, lads, fight, it is the widow calls you,
Your ears are never deaf unto the orphan's cry.
Go unto a man, and make those Sepoy's tremble,
With Colin Campbell by your side, you'll conquer
or will die.                                       

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