A PATRIOTIC SONG,
tune—Jonny Cofe.
My Brethren, now we're met again,
To show what spirit we maintain,
And that we ever are the same,
To meet the French in the morning,
Chorus.
Or are your boats all ready yet,;
Upon our shores, when ye think fit,
We'll meet ye in the morning.
Tho' many powers you have undone,
And nearly Europe over-run,
The reason's obvious as the sun,
They lay o'er lang in the morning.
Then Bonaparte, &c.
You're well aware it is the case,
Where'er you saw a British face,
You've found it to your sad disgrace,
That they should rise in the morning.
Then Bonaparte, &c.
Some of our patriots, in the dark,
May try to aid you in your "wark;"
But, muzzl’d, they can only bark,
And loungers prove in the morning.
Then Bonaparte, &c.
Your piteous measures to fulfil,
Against our trade you try your skill;
But that won’t bring us to your will
While we can rise in the morning.
Then Bonaparte, &c.
My Brethren, then, just to display
Our sentiments on such a day,
Permit, me, in your name, to say
We’ll meet the French in the morning.
Then Bonaparte, &c.