[A Volunteer Song A Collection of Pieces in Verse Numbered I.-XI. By Francis Wrangham] |
 | I. |
| II. |
 | III. | No III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| X. |
| XI. |
 | [A Volunteer Song |  |
No III.
A YORKSHIRE SONG.
Hark! the din of embarkation
Blusters from yon hostile shore:
We, with “note of preparation,”
Echo back the thundering roar.
England, still to fear a stranger,
Dares the tyrant to advance;
Single-handed copes with danger,
And defies the hosts of France.
Blusters from yon hostile shore:
We, with “note of preparation,”
Echo back the thundering roar.
England, still to fear a stranger,
Dares the tyrant to advance;
Single-handed copes with danger,
And defies the hosts of France.
To the beach her sons descending,
Rush to meet the murderous foe:
From their spheres of lustre bending,
Sainted warriors bless each blow.
Fierce the strife, but quickly ended,
When the patriot girds his thigh;
And, by English hearts attended,
Swears—to triumph, or to die.
Rush to meet the murderous foe:
From their spheres of lustre bending,
Sainted warriors bless each blow.
Fierce the strife, but quickly ended,
When the patriot girds his thigh;
And, by English hearts attended,
Swears—to triumph, or to die.
Solemn oaths, brave Yorkshire, bind thee,
Pledged in heaven's recording sight:
O then, let thy country find thee
Foremost in the van of fight!
With the blood of France all gory,
Haply on thy front a scar;
Think, what then shall be thy glory,
Borne in conquest's crimson car.
Pledged in heaven's recording sight:
O then, let thy country find thee
Foremost in the van of fight!
With the blood of France all gory,
Haply on thy front a scar;
Think, what then shall be thy glory,
Borne in conquest's crimson car.
Then thy children, clustering round thee,
Shall with rapture clasp their sire:
England then shall boast, she found thee
Burning with thine ancient fire.
Thence in peace each joy possessing,
Thou shalt draw her endless gaze;
Thine shall be her dearest blessing—
Beauty's love, and Valour's praise.
Shall with rapture clasp their sire:
England then shall boast, she found thee
Burning with thine ancient fire.
Thence in peace each joy possessing,
Thou shalt draw her endless gaze;
Thine shall be her dearest blessing—
Beauty's love, and Valour's praise.
| [A Volunteer Song | |