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So now alike the fools and wits,
Fops, fidlers, foreigners and cits,
All struck me by rotation.
Come learn of me ye patriot fair,
Nor make a single man your care,
But sigh for all the nation.
DAVY JOKES’S LOCKER.
WHen last honest Jack, of whose fate I now sing,
weigh’d anchor and cast out for sea,
For he ne'er refus’d for his country and King
to fight, for no lubber was he;
To hand, reef, & steer, & house every thing tight,
full well did he know every inch,
Tho’ the toplifts of sailors the tempest should smite,
Jack never was known for to flinch.
CHORUS.
Tho’ the toplifts of sailors the tempest should smite,
Jack never was known for to flinch.
Aloft from the mast head one day he espy’d
seven sail, which appear’d to his view,
Clear the decks, spunge the guns, was instantly cry’d,
and each to his station then flew;
And fought until many a noble was slain,
and silenced was every gun,
’Twas then that old English valour was vain,
for by numbers, alas! I they’re undone.
Chor. ’Twas then that old Englifh valour was vain,
for by numbers, alas! they’re undone.
Yet think not bold Jack, tho' by conquest dismay’d,
could tamely submit to his fate;
When his country he found he no longer could serve,
looking round, he addrefs’d thus each mate,
