PARODY,

                     BY AN

      Honeſt Engliſhman.

" ROUSE Britannia-—dangers call thee,
" Awhile thy tranquil ſtate reſign,
" Treach'rous friends and foes conspiring,
" Now threat thy darling shores and mine.
" France, ſo deeply plung'd in horrors,
" Aims, with joy, the threat'ned blow,
" Hopes at length for ample vengeance,
" On her old, and deadly, foe."
-—Thus with grief and ſorrow pining,
Did England's Guardian Angel ſay,
Where in Laurel Grove reclining,
All our ancient Heroes lay.
Russel, Keppel, Howe, Boscawen,
Former Guardians of the main,
Marlb'rough, Wolfe, and Abercrombie,
So diſtinguiſhed on the plain.
In the hour when gentle ſlumbers
Seal in reft the guiltleſs mind,
Bonaparte', ſleep deſerted,
Neither reſt nor peace could find.
Round his couch ſtood Envy knawing,
Pale-fac'd Guilt, and black Deſpair,
Diſcord high her fire-brand throwing.
Caſt around a diſmal glare.
Then in council he fat working
Horror's deeds, in England's woe,
With his Myrmidons conſulting,
How to give the deadly blow.
Fiends
ſuggeſted acts of Treaſon,
Which revolted Angels tell,
As a crime of deepeſt colour,
Hurried them in chains to Hell.
When two Forms appear'd before him,
Clad in robes of heav'nly light,
Virtue, led by England's Genius,
Burſt on his aſtoniſhed ſight.
—" Stay, raſh man, thy horrid purpoſe,"
Sternly thus the Phantom ſaid,
'' Stay, raſh man, 'tis Virtue bids thee,
" Tho', alas ! to me thou 'rt dead.
" Was thy youth for this so guarded ?
" Horror ſcarcely dares to tell,
" How thy crimes, alas ! would rival
" All the blackeſt deeds of Hell.
" Far, vain man, beyond thy malice
" Mounts Great Britain's glorious Name ;
"
Hear how high it ſtands recorded,
" Mark'd for everlaſiing Fame !
"
Long we'll guard Old England's Glory,
" Envious, hear what I relate ;
" While thy ſicken'd ſoul lies grov'ling,
" Eternal Honours England wait."

                        Printed for F. GINGER, 169, Piccadilly.
Price Od. per Dozen, or id, each, by C, Stower, Charles Street, Hatton Garden.