Royalty

                                                            A NOTABLE BALLAD,

Merrily compoſed and ſeriouſly deſigned for the Voices of all His Majeſty's loving Subjects, throughout
                                                        theſe united Kingdoms;

Being moſt humbly dedicated, without Permiſſion,
but not without the Profoundeſt Reſpect,

To the King's moſt excellent Majeſty,

By His Majeſty's very Loyal, Zealous,
and Devoted Servant,
                                           PHILIP ENGLISH.

LET them vapour and talk, the French I would ſay,
As if they could conquer by Words ;
But the Maxim I hold, is come when they may,
Speak we by our Cannon and Swords.
                           CHORUS.
Our Grandſires could drub them and drub them we will,
For England was dauntleſs, and dauntleſs is ſtill.

Let Eunuchs and Women, that 's Men Woman-like,
The French and poor Pope truckle to ;
Our Hearts and our Colours we never will ſtrike,
To a lawleſs inhuman Foe.
                                             Our Grandsires, &c.

We feel for the Swiſs, and muſt laugh at the Dutch,
While hugging and hugged by France :
The hugging and hugg'd which we chuſe is not ſuch,
But ſuch as Moll, Sally, and Nance.
                                             Our Grandsires, &c.

France prates much of Freedom :---the Freedom ſhe gives
In Batavia, 's common as Sand ;
To murder the Children and raviſh the Wives !
Is Freedom we can't underſtand.
                                             Our Grandsires, &c.

To her emigrant Son, ſhould Corſica aſk,
Does no ſignal Merit accrue?
The Merit to be (independent of Maſk)
Mahometan, Pagan, and Jew.
                                             Our Grandsires, &c.

For our Juries and Laws, the Preſs and our King,
His Subſtitutes ſtill are at hand :
A Tyrant for one, for the others a Thing,
Which ſweeps away Money and Land.
                                             Our Grandsires, &c.

This God Buonaparte (for France a fit God),
Unaw'd, how could Sydney ſubdue?
The Standard, Invincible, captur'd, founds odd ;
And hung in Saint Paul's, up to view.
                                             Our Grandsires, &c.

His Menace of Flats with their Tackle and Men,
Will Rocks and our Navy contemn ?
On our Seas if he come, his Myriads and Ten,
Our Seas would not ſure be on them.
                                             Our Grandsires, &c.

Such Heroes and God let Engliſhmen dread,
Forget their own Deeds, if they pleaſe :
From Egypt who drove them, their Idol a-head,
Their Main-decks who boarded with Eaſe. ?
                                             Our Grandsires, &c.

Then Gallants of Britain no longer be proud,
But Senſes and Honour yield up ;
Invite Buonaparte, his Madam, and Crowd,
In London to dine and to ſup.
                                             Our Grandsires, &c.

Yet pauſe for a Time, and for ſuch jolly Fare,
Firſt furniſh your Spits and Pot-Hooks,
And HUTCHINSON make with a laudable Care,
And VINCENT and NELSON the Cooks.
                                             Our Grandsires, &c.

To Solemnity turning, ſwear we ' By God,'
Whom Frenchmen affect to prophane,
In his Hand to become one National Rod,
Whoſe ſtrokes ſhall Erance rue in her ſlain.
                    C H O R U S.
Our Grandſires could beat them, and beat them we will,
For England was Chriſtian, and Chriſtian is ſtill.

Price One Halfpenny each, or Fifteen Copies for Sixpence.

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