A WORD TO THE WISE,

                                 OR

   OLD ENGLAND FOR EVER.

   A NEW SONG FOR CHRISTMAS 1792.

         To the Tune of—" Hearts of Oak."

COME, cheer up, my Lads, merry Chriſtmas is here,
And I hope we ſhall all have a happy New Year :
Prepare your Plumb-Puddings, minc'd Pies,and ſtout Ale,
And may Plenty and Peace in OLD ENGLAND ne'er fail.

                                    CHORUS.

French Faſhions, my Lads, and French Follies diſdain ;
Steady, Boys, ſteady ;
We always are ready
To laugh at the Tricks of Monſieur and Tom Pain.

Black-bread, and Soup-meagre, and Frogs fricaſſee'd,
Are Fare, that may ſerve for a Frenchman indeed ;
But they never ſhall ſhake our well-founded Belief,
That no Fare in the World's like OLD ENGLAND'S Roaſt Beef.

               CHORUS—French Faſhions, &c.

Let French powder'd Monkies their ça ira ſing,
We, BRITONS, will ſtick to our " God ſave the King !"
Then laugh at the Stories the fly Monſieurs tell,
For the Sons of OLD ENGLAND all know when they're well.

               CHORUS—French Faſhions, &c.

May their new-fangled Creed by the Hang-man be burnt,
The true Rights of Man honeſt BRITONS have learnt ;
Even our Wives and our Daughters, though deucedly vain,
In OLD ENGLAND ſhall ſcorn to be laced by Tom Pain.

               CHORUS—French Faſhions, &c.

The King, and the Church, and the Laws of the Land,
The good Conſtitution our Forefathers plann'd ;
To maintain them we all with one Heart ſhould agree,
For while they protect us, OLD ENGLAND is free.

               CHORUS—French Faſhions, &c.

Victorious by Land, and the Lords of the Sea,
What Nation can boaſt of ſuch Glory as We ?
Let Monſieur make his Bows, and Grimaces, and dance,
But OLD ENLAND will never take Leſſons from Fiance.

               CHORUS—French Faſhions, &c.

The Hand of Oppreſſion we never can fear,
Our Laws are the fame for the Peaſant and Peer :
Our Houſe is our Caſtle, our Fire-fide our Throne,
And each Man in OLD ENGLAND is ſure of his own.

               CHORUS—French Faſhions, &c.

Fine Words may found well, and may make ſome Men ſtare,
But our State with our Neighbours we'll wiſely compare :
In France there is Murder, and Plunder, and Want,
In OLD ENGLAND—each Bleſſing that Heaven can grant.

               CHORUS—French Faſhions, &c.

Some Men muſt be ſtronger, ſome wiſer than others,
But good Laws can unite them to live like good Brothers ;
For while the Strong labour, the Wiſe ones muſt think,
And then in OLD ENGLAND we'll ne'er want the Chink.

               CHORUS—French Faſhions, &c.

Their great Revolution, for which they've run mad,
Serves to fink down the Good, and to raiſe up the Bad ;
Here the good Men to riſe have a far better Chance,
And OLD ENGLAND will ſend all her bad ones to France.

               CHORUS—French Faſhions, &c.

Then let us not hazard the Good we poſſeſs ;
In ſtriving for more, we may chance to haveleſs :
Let us baniſh falſe Friends, who would fill us with Fears,
And OLD ENGLAND ſhall ſee many happy New Years.

               CHORUS—French Faſhions, &c.

Now drink to the King, and the Church, and the Laws,
With one Voice, Heart, and Hand we'll ſupport the good Cauſe
Here's Wealth, and here's Trade; here's the Plough, and the Sail;
And may Plenty and Peace in OLD ENGLAND ne'er fail,

                               CHORUS.

French Faſhions, my Lads, and French Follies diſdain ;
                  Steady, Boys, ſteady ;
                  We always are ready,
To laugh at the Tricks of Monſieur and Tom Pain.