THE Nations Joy for a War With MONSIEUR, OR, ENGLAND's Resolution to pluck down France. To the Tune of Legin Water, or Round about the Hollow Tree. Licensed according to Order.
|
NOw England's Bloudy Flag's display'd;
|
The French-men do our Fury dread.
|
Great William Vows for to maintain
|
The Rights of England on the Main:
|
His valliant Seamen scorn to flinch,
|
They'll dye e'er give their Foes an Inch.
|
Brave Protestants they will Advance,
|
We'll scare the Pope and King of France.
|
Our Navy Spreads their Canvas Wings,
|
And to the French Distruction brings.
|
Our gallant Fleet so brave appears,
|
It makes the French-men hang their Ears.
|
The might Pow'r of England's Crown,
|
Shall pluck that Popish Tyrant down,
|
Old England's Glory to Advance,
|
We'll scare the Pope and King of France.
|
Let Monsieur now, doe what he can,
|
We'll still Reign Master o'er the Main;
|
Old England's Right upon the Sea,
|
In spight of France maintain'd shall be;
|
Our Cannons thundring from each Ship,
|
Shall send the French-men to the Deep,
|
Old England's Glory to Advance,
|
We'll scare the Pope and King of France.
|
No Seaman fears to lose his Bloud,
|
To justifie a Cause so good.
|
The French, which long has spoil'd our Trade,
|
And further, would our Rights Invade.
|
Their bold Endeavours soon we'll tire,
|
Their cow'rdly Fleet we'll sink and fire:
|
Our Nations Glory to Advance,
|
We'll scare the Pope and King of France.
|
The private Leagues which once you made,
|
To spoil our Land, are all betray'd:
|
To Recompence your King for that,
|
We'll make you feed our Mackrell fat:
|
We'll show you all such English Play,
|
Shall make you scow're and flie away,
|
Old England's Glory to Advance,
|
We'll scare the Pope and King of France.
|
The Force which they to Ireland send,
|
Like Beasts within a Pound are Pen'd,
|
And now, before they get away,
|
We'll make them for their Trespass pay:
|
Brave England will no more be fool'd,
|
Nor by a Popish Prince be rul'd,
|
Old England's Glory to Advance,
|
We'll scare the Pope and King of France.
|
All valliant Lads within our Land,
|
To pluck down France will lend a hand:
|
Then Pope and Monsieur, have a care,
|
'Twill prove to both a fatal War,
|
Whilst England shall successfull be,
|
In plucking down of Popery,
|
Old England's Glory to Advance,
|
We'll scare the Pope and King of France.
|
For to advance King William's Fame,
|
We'll add new Glories to his Name,
|
The haughty Monsieur we'll pluck down,
|
And make him bow to England's Crown:
|
Our Papist Foes our Pow'r shall know,
|
We'll bring their Cross and Miter low,
|
Old England's Glory to Advance,
|
We'll scare the Pope and King of France.
|
We have a Prince, whose mighty hand,
|
From Popish Ills protect our Land.
|
The Scarlet Whore he has o'er come,
|
And pluck'd down all the Pride of Rome.
|
The Protestants he has redrest,
|
Who were with many Laws opprest,
|
Old England's Glory to Advance,
|
We'll scare the Pope and King of France.
|
Now England is so powerfull grown,
|
Poor Monsieur totters in his Throne.
|
Brave Boys, with Courage let's proceed,
|
No English man will fear to bleed.
|
The cow'rdly French we'll soon confound,
|
Brave William shall in France be Crown'd,
|
Old England's Glory to Advance,
|
We'll scare the Pope and King of France.
|
|
|
|
|
|