New song called, Bonaparte's comin', or, Rouse brother Britons/New song called, Bonaparte's comin', or, Rouse brother Britons

BONAPARTE's COMIN':

OR,

RROUSE BROTHER BRITONS.

[By J. DUFF, LOGIE ALMOND-HOUSE.]

Publiſhed by deſire of His Grace, JOHN, Duke of ATHOL,
⁠Lord Lieutenant of Perthſhire, &c. and Gen. M'Donald.

BONAPARTE's comin', they're tellin' us
what he's to do when he comes;
He thinks we're ſae fear'd o' his numbers,
⁠we'll rin at the ſound o' his drums:
But rouſe Brother Britons an' meet him,
⁠an' ſhaw him our hearts are o'ſteel;
We'll face him, an' fight him, an' beat him,
⁠an' ſend him to France or the De'il.

⁠Then wha wadna be a brave ſodger,
⁠⁠an' fight for his country an' laws,
⁠Afore we will yield to a Tyrant,
⁠⁠we'll die in the glorious cauſe.

He's braggin' he'll tak' a' our filler,
⁠an’ learn us a new Country dance;
And then he will lift our bit Iſland,
⁠an' carry it wi' him to France.
But come when he likes he'll be cheatit,
⁠an' that he will find to his coſt,
For tho' he's the Auſtrians defeatit,
⁠in Britons he never ſhall boaſt.

⁠⁠Then wha wadna be, &c.

He's thinkin' to brig owre the Channel,
⁠an' fyne be'll come hither dry thod;
But faith gin brave Nelſon meet wi' him,
⁠I dread he'll come ſhort o' the road:
For Nelſon he is a brave ſailor,
⁠an' Bonaparte kens that fa' weel;
For brauly he minds o' the drubbin'
⁠he gat frae him ance at the Nile.
⁠⁠Then wha wadna be, &c.

Now we hae baith ſodgers an' ſailors,
⁠an' plenty o' fine Volunteers,
Wi' routh o' Militia an' Yeomen,
⁠then what the miſhanter can fear's?
We'll laugh at their threaten'd invaſion,
⁠our hearts to our King are ſae true,
We'll ſtan' or we'l fa' by our colours,
⁠an' ſwear by the Red an' the Blue.
⁠⁠Then wha wadna be, &c.

Our King an' our Country commands us,
⁠our Liberty, Laws, an' our Lives,
An' what's ſtill as dear yet as a' that,
⁠our Honour, our Creed, an' our Wives,
Then let us unite to defend them,
⁠an' enter the liſts Volunteer,
An' tell the proud Corſican Tyrant,
⁠we want nae French faſhions the year.
⁠⁠Then wha wadna be, &c.

Now fill up a bumper to Nelſon,
⁠to Duncan, St. Vincent an' Howe,
Likewiſe to brave Keith an' Sir Sidney,
⁠while laurels encircle their brow.
An’ here’s to each ſodger an’ ſailor,
⁠that’s beat him by land an’ by ſea;
An’ if they attempt to invade us,
⁠ſure beaten again they ſhall be.

⁠Then wha wadna be, &c.