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A Song on the Victory over the Turks.
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[Music ]
HArk the thundring Cannons roar,
Ecchoing from the German shore,
And the joyful News comes o'er;
The Turks are all confounded?
Lorrain comes, they run, they run,
Charge your Horse thro' the grand half Moon,
We'll Quarter give to none,
Since Staremberg is wounded.
Close your rank, and each brave soul
Take a lusty flowing bowl,
A grand carouse to the Royal Pole,
The Empires brave defender;
