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The Ingoldsby Lyrics

By Thomas Ingoldsby [i.e. R. H. Barham]

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The Brave Lieutenant Fitch.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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168

The Brave Lieutenant Fitch.

Some talk of Alexander,
And some of Hercules,
Of Conon and Lysander,
And of Miltiades;

169

But of all the world's brave heroes,
There's none have reach'd the pitch,
With their tow-row-row-dow-dow,
Of the brave Lieutenant Fitch.
When Miguel's Commanders
On Lisbon turn'd their tail,
A “mob of thirty people” came
And took me out of jail.
I arm'd them all with broomsticks,
And a crow-bar like a switch,
With my tow-row-row-dow-dow,
Wav'd brave Lieutenant Fitch.
My troops I then commanded
To march to Fort St. John;
We boldly stormed the outworks—
For the garrison was gone.
I sprang upon the sentinel
And knock'd him in the ditch,
With my tow-row-row-dow-dow,
Oh! brave Lieutenant Fitch.
Then through the streets of Lisbon,
I marched with five and drum,
And the girls all cried, “Huzza my boys,
Lieutenant Fitch is come!”

170

Says Villa Flor, “My hero,
You behaved yourself as `sich,'
With your tow-row-row-dow-dow,
My brave Lieutenant Fitch!”
That fine old cock Palmella,
As well as Villa Flor,
Cried, “Such a valiant fellow
Me nevare see afore!”
In Fame's historic temple
He vell deserve a niche,
With his tow-row-row-dow-dow,
Dis brave Lieutenant Fitch.”
My “single arm” thus routed
The whole o'the hostile squad;
The “mob” all roared and shouted,
And “I felt like a god!”
And wasn't the Queen of Portugal
A lucky little—witch,
With her tow-row-row-dow-dow,
To have Lieutenant Fitch?
So Gemmen fill a bumper
Of max, and drink each one,
Here's luck and a jolly scramble
For every mother's son!

171

And may tag, rag, and bobtail
All grow exceeding rich,
With their tow-row-row-dow-dow,
Like the brave Lieutenant Fitch.