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[A Volunteer Song

A Collection of Pieces in Verse Numbered I.-XI. By Francis Wrangham]

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No V.
  
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No V.

TIMES OF YORE.

[_]

Tune—“ My Spirits are Mounting ,” &c.

A song, or a story, may drive away care;
Fal de ral lal, &c.
You shall have both in one—nay, I'll tell you a pair:
Fal de ral lal, &c.
To make you in battle with Frenchmen more bold,
You shall hear how your ancestors thrash'd them of old.
Fal de ral, &c.
When Edward's brave host met their myriads in fight,
Their sun from its noontide sunk sudden to night:
At Cressy and Poitiers was cropp'd their fair flower,
And the glory of ages was dimm'd in an hour.
What Harry of Monmouth achieved with his sword,
Let Agincourt's trophies of triumph record;
When with France's proud nobles its acres were spread,
And her diadem girdled an Englishman's head.
But, perhaps, 'twas by ambush we throve in each fray?
Oh! no: they were fought in the face of the day.
But, surely, by numbers those actions were done?
Oh! no: the French legions were twenty to one.
Then come they, or stay they, we care not a pin:
If they come, they shall find us in steel to the chin;
If they stay, 'tis sheer cowardice checks their advance—
So ‘Here's to King George, and confusion to France.’