THE
Granadiers Loyal Health.
A SONG.
The First Line of these Notes to be Sung Twice over.
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OLd Englands Glory now begins,
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Under the best of Gracious Kings;
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Ill Fates which many years have frown'd,
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With smiling Conquest now hath Crown'd;
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And put an end to all Dispute,
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Against our Gracious King and Duke.
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II.
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The Royal Line for to inlarge,
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For Rupert we have got Prince George;
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Of Conduct and of Courage known,
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To his Immortal praise alone;
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We'l drink the Health e're we go hence,
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Both to the King, the Duke, and Prince.
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III.
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We'l Front the Guards with Fire and Sword,
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For to defend our Soveraign Lord;
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Let flat-fac'd Oats like Sodom burn,
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Mahomets Saint, and Christians scorn:
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While Rebels here in Mourning lurk,
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Because the Christians Bang'd the Turk.
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IV.
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Make ready Links, take your right Foot
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Out of the Stirrup, then fall too't:
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Recover your Muskets, Charge the Front
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To'th Right and Left, there's Lives lies on't:
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Blow your Matches, fire your Fuse,
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We'l make the Rebels flye like Jews.
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V.
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Hand your Granadoes, let 'um flye,
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Like Thunder flashes from the Sky;
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Like Fire-drakes or some Blazing-Star,
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Which are true Signets of sweet War:
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We with our Hoboys, Gun, and Drum,
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Shall make Mars Harmony where we come.
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VI.
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Toth' God of Wine let's now descend,
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Old Bacchus that true Souldies Friend;
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Where Mars oft fails, he still Inspires,
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Both Heart and Brain with War-like Fires:
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Come brush about that smiling Bowl,
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To Albermarle and his great Soul.
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VII.
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Come Bowl about Boys, while we stay,
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Two in a Hand to Loyal Gay;
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And Daring Parker true and stout,
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And Hestings must not be left out:
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Heroick Boys, when Whiggs did Sway,
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They fear'd not Monmouth, Tom, and Gray.
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VIII.
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Howard and Sackfield for the Crown,
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They'l make our English Turks come down,
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And send 'em unto Tecklets Gang,
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There let 'em either Starve or Hang:
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A score of Bumpers round the Board,
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To Christians and Victorious Sword.
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IX.
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Hark! Hark! I hear the Drum
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Beat Rad-dan, their Majesties come;
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Wind up your Bottoms, clear the Bar,
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See what's the Reckoning in the Star:
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Whilst Whiggs Designs are all debar'd,
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Come Fellow-Souldiers to the GUARD.
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