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Spectators and puppets were here and there thrown,
When Jack on a tree who had safely been blown,
Took a quid, blew his whistle, and, not at all vext,
Cried, ‘Shiver me, what will this fellow do next?’
Derry down, &c.
A bluff grenadier, under great Marshall Saxe,
Had his head cut clean off by a Lochaber axe;
But his comrade replac’d it so nice, ere it fell,
That a handkerchief tied round his neck made all well.
Derry down, &c.
Now his mem’ry was short, and his neck very long,
Which he’d bow thus, and thus, when he heard a good song;
And one night, beating time to the tale I tell you,
He gave such a nod, that away his head flew.
Derry down, &c.
I cou’d tell other stories, but here mean to rest,
Till what you have heard may have time to digest,
Besides ere my narrative verse I pursue,
I must find some more subjects all equally true.
Derry down, &c.
DOES HAUGHTY GAUL.
Does haughty Gaul invasion threat?
Then let the louns beware, Sir,
