A New Song in Praise of the Durham
MILITIA.
To the Tune of the Lillies of France.
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MILITIA Boys, for my Theme I now chuse,
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(your Aid I implore to assist me, my Muse)
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Whilst here I relate of the Durham Youths Fame,
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Who chearful appeard, when these new Tidings came,
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That to Barnard-Castle, they must march away,
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Embodyd to be, without Stop or Delay.
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What tho some Cowards, have betook them to flight,
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And for their King and Country scorn for to fight;
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Yet we Durham Boys, who jovial appear,
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Right honest well be, and well banish all Fear,
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When Head of the Front, how martial we see,
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Our COLONEL so brave, so gallant and free.
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Whose generous Hearts by Experience we know,
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Why need we then dread, along with him to go,
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Then farewell dear Wives, and each kind Sweetheart,
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Pray do not repine that from you we must part;
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But hark! the Drums beat, and the Fifes sweetly play,
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Were orderd to march now to Richmond straightway.
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Where cloathed in Red and in Purple Attire,
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Our Exercise then shall be all our Desire,
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Which having acquird, then well merrily sing,
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Success to great GEORGE, and the Prussian King,
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Likewise loyal PITT, a Statesman so bold,
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Who scorns to be false, for Interest or Gold.
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If then the Monsieurs, should with their crafty Guile,
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Eer dare to molest us on Britains fair Isle,
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Well laugh at their Fury, and Malice so strong,
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To Charon below, how well hurl them headlong,
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Do they think that our Muskets useless shall be,
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When in Numbers great them advancing we see.
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If they do, theyre mistaen, well boldly proceed,
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And conquer or die, eer ignobly well yield;
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Then crowned with Laurel, (for ventring our Lives)
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Home then well return to our Sweethearts and Wives,
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What Joy will be greater, our Fame will abound,
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The Bells then shall ring, and the Trumpets shall sound
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Let each loyal Briton then fill up his Glass,
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For to drive Care away, so round let it pass,
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Drink a Health to King George, who sits on his throne,
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(Whose Power the French to their Sorrow have known)
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May the Heavens above; preserve him from Harm,
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And ever defend him from foreign Alarms.
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A New Song, on the brave General Blakeney,
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and Admiral Bing.
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COme all you jolly Soldiers,
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of Courage stout and bold,
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There is most of us young Men,
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and but few of us old
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We are going to Minorca,
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to fight for the King,
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And when then we return,
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in Claret we will swim Fal, lal, etc.
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Bold Blakeney was valiant;
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his Men were very true.
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If Bing had been the same, Boys,
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we had made the French to rue,
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But he refusd to fight,
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all for a little Gold
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So he turnd his Back upon the French,
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and thus Minorca was sold.
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Then adieu to Minorca,
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as I do suppose
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The sweet smelling Pink
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and the fine blooming Rose,
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The Flowers they were sweet,
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and the Meadows fresh and gay,
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But now were left all alone
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with the French Dogs to play
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Now if any such News
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should come into this Land,
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That we poor [Soldiers,]
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were lost in the Sand
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It would cause many a fair Maidens
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Heart for to [ache]
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And to sigh and lament,
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for their true Lovers Sake.
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The young Women or
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we are all undone,
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And the old Women cry
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for the Loss of their Sons,
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The Widows they do cry;
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we are all in Distress,
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We are all left alone
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and our Children fatherless.
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If that our Children,
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for Bread they do cry,
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There is none that will relieve them,
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that is here standing by,
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Theres none that will relieve them
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from Hunger, Thirst and Cold,
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While we do cross the Ocean,
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like jolly Sailors bold. Fal, lal, etc.
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