Songs of the Cavaliers and Roundheads Jacobite Ballads, &c. &c. By George W. Thornbury ... with illustrations by H. S. Marks |
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RAISING THE TOWN. |
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 | Songs of the Cavaliers and Roundheads |  |
27
RAISING THE TOWN.
Set the big bell rocking, you sexton sot,
And rouse the burghers against the Scot.
Hang to the rope, the bell must have scope,
Pull with a will, and pull with a hope,
And then give the villains a shot—
Why not?
And rouse the city against the Scot.
And rouse the burghers against the Scot.
Hang to the rope, the bell must have scope,
Pull with a will, and pull with a hope,
And then give the villains a shot—
Why not?
And rouse the city against the Scot.
Cling to the clapper, and hammer and clash,
From Peter's to Andrew's, the 'prentices rash
Will leap to their swords, and leaving their boards,
Scurry like wild deer over the fords.
Now drag at the old fuzzed rope,
No Pope,
Or Knox shall rule us, while gibbet has rope.
From Peter's to Andrew's, the 'prentices rash
Will leap to their swords, and leaving their boards,
Scurry like wild deer over the fords.
Now drag at the old fuzzed rope,
No Pope,
Or Knox shall rule us, while gibbet has rope.
Beat the old brass, till its hurrying roar
Rouse the towns-people score by score,
Hammer and beat, till they scurry and meet
Up on the postern and down in the street,
Beat, beat!
We've need of them all in the street.
Rouse the towns-people score by score,
28
Up on the postern and down in the street,
Beat, beat!
We've need of them all in the street.
Ram out the gun, from the top of the tower,
There goes the bell, 'tis twelve by the hour,
Cram it with shot, we'll give it them hot,
Thief and pedlar and beggarly Scot.
Oh, we can't bate a bullet or shot,
'Od rot!
Blaze till it burst at the Scot.
There goes the bell, 'tis twelve by the hour,
Cram it with shot, we'll give it them hot,
Thief and pedlar and beggarly Scot.
Oh, we can't bate a bullet or shot,
'Od rot!
Blaze till it burst at the Scot.
Swinging and swaying, the ponderous chime
Shakes the steeple from time to time;
The torches they run, and one after one
The city is rousing, they jostle and run,
The game is started, the scrimmage begun.
The gun!
Comes like thunder to deafen and stun.
Shakes the steeple from time to time;
The torches they run, and one after one
The city is rousing, they jostle and run,
The game is started, the scrimmage begun.
The gun!
Comes like thunder to deafen and stun.
Lights are spreading from pane to pane,
There was a flash, and another again
From Michael's tower, with a flurry of shot,
Quick and steady, and fierce and hot,
Let the coward go shiver and rot,
Why not?
Rake the van of the staggering Scot.
There was a flash, and another again
From Michael's tower, with a flurry of shot,
Quick and steady, and fierce and hot,
Let the coward go shiver and rot,
Why not?
Rake the van of the staggering Scot.
| Songs of the Cavaliers and Roundheads | |