Hilaria: The Festive Board by Charles Morris - HTML preview

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POLITICAL,
 Written in the Reign of Robespierre.

 

Tune, The Roast Beef of Old England.

 

When the honor of Briton imperiously calls

For her cannons’ loud thunder and death-dealing balls,

Hear Victory shout from her fam’d wooden walls.

 

CHORUS.

 

The King and Old England for ever,

True liberty, order, and law.

 

Shall we who for ages have freedom defended,

With jacobin ruffians and cut-throats be blended;

Kiss, embrace, and shake hands with the devil’s intended?

CHORUS.

 

See Gallia polluted with crimes past all counting,

Of mercy and justice dried up is the fountain,

There Virtue’s a mole-hill, and Vice is a mountain.

CHORUS.

 

Religion abandon’d, morality dead,

Worth, honor, and honesty, from the land fled,

And eternity term’d only going to bed.

CHORUS.

 

Shall we follow France in each social band-breaking,

Eat bread bad and black of old Belzebub’s baking,

And sleep on French litter all quiv’ring and shaking?

 

CHORUS.

 

No, we’ve bread white and good, and fam’d English roast-beef,

On the beds we repose, Nature finds sound relief,

Such comforts deserve not each jacobin thief.

 

CHORUS.

 

’Tis French Anarchy’s plan all the world to subdue,

O’er each fair peaceful land blood and bodies to strew,

If you don’t conquer them, John, by G—d they will you.

 

CHORUS.

 

May the sharp sword of justice then fatally strike,

And each jacobin’s head be transferr’d to his pike,

Such Gallic equality John Bull would like.

 

CHORUS.

 

To our brothers in arms for fair freedom’s cause fighting,

And each hero of honour and spirit uniting,

True to their King, in their Country delighting.

 

CHORUS.

The Glory and Laurels of War.