Patriotism

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        ENGLISH, SCOTS,
          AND IRISHMEN.

                  A PATRIOTIC ADDRESS

                                 TO THE

INHABITANTS OF THE UNITED KINGDOM.

               By John Mayne.

ENGLISH, SCOTS, and IRISHMEN,
All that are in VALOUR'S ken !
Shield your KING ; and flock agen
Where his sacred Banners fly !
Now's the day, and now's the hour,
Frenchmen wou'd the Land devour—
Will ye wait till they come o'er
To give ye Chains and Slavery ?

Who wou'd be a Frenchman's slave ?
Who wou'd truckle to the knave ?
Who wou'd shun a glorious grave
For worse than death, for—infamy ?
To see your Liberties expire—
Your Temples smoke, your Fleets on fire !
That's a Frenchman's sole desire—
That's your fate, or—Liberty !

Robb'd of all that sweetens life,
Tranquil home and happy wife !
Reeking from the villain's knife,
Yonder harmless Peasant see—
Prostrate near him on the heath,
A ruin'd Daughter gasps for breath !
Frenchmen riot in their death—
That's to them a luxury !

In fancy'd conquest over you,
The Tyrant tells his tyger-crew—
If chains will not your minds subdue,
Nor exile, stripes, and poverty,
Then, when the Land is all defil'd,
He'll butcher woman, man and child—
He'll turn your gardens to a wild—
Your Courts, to caves of misery !

Mothers, Sisters, Sweethearts dear,
All that Virtue gives us here !
Can your Sons or Lovers fear
When Frenchmen threaten slavery ?
O ! no !—In hosts of VOLUNTEERS,
The GENIUS of the ISLE appears !
With dauntless breast, BRITANNIA rears
Her arm, and points to VICTORY !

IRISH, SCOTS, and ENGLISHMEN,
All that WORTH and VALOUR ken !
Shield your KING ; and flock agen
Where his sacred Banners fly !
Now's the day, and now's the hour,
Frenchmen wou'd the Land devour—
To arms ! to arms ! and make them cow'r,
Or meet their certain destiny !

PRINTED BY A. WILSON, WILD COURT, LINCOLN'S INN FIELDS,
FOR W. J. AND J. RICHARDSON, ROYAL EXCHANGE.

                     JULY 1803.