APOLLO STRUCK THE LYRE, THE MUSES SUNC
IN STRAINS ALTERNATE.

GLASGOW:

PRINTED BY A. MACGOUN,
HUSIC SELLER AND STATIONER, ARGYLE-STREET,
VHERE THE MUSIC OF THE SONGS IN THIS COLLECTION

MAY BE HADT

English Fiche 6.2250 ni188

THE

daulsorel

MUSICAL BANQUET.

THE TIGHT LITTLE ISLAND.

DADDY Neptune, one day, to Freedom did say,

If ever I live upon dry land,
The spot I should hit on would be little Britain:
Says Freedom, Why that's my own island,

Oh what a snug little island,

A right little tight little isand,
Search the globe round, none can be found,

So happy as this little illand.

Julius Cæsar, the Roman, who yielded to no man,

Came by water, he couldn't come by land;
And Dane, Pict and Saxon, their homes turn'd their backs on,
And all for the sake of our illand;

Oh! what a song little island,

They'd all have a touch at the island,
Some were shot dead, some of them fled,
And some stay'd to live in the island.

T
Then a very great war-man, called Billy the Norman,
Cried, Damn it, I never lik’d my land;

,
It would be much more handy to leave this Normandy,
And live on yon beautiful island.

Says he, 'tis a fnug little itland,

Shan't us go visit the island:
Hop, skip, and jump,—there he was plump,
And he kick'd up a dust in the island.

A

Yet party deceit help'd the Nornians to beat,

Of traitors they manag'd to buy land,
By Dane, Saxon, or Pict we ne'er had been lick'd,
Had they stuck to the king of the island;

Poor Harold the king of the island,

He loft both his life and his island, That's

very true,—what could he do? Like a Briton he died for his illand.

a

Then the Spanish Armada set out to invade a',

Quite sure, if they ever came nigh land,
They cou'dn't do no less than tuck up queen Befs,
And take their full swing in the island;

Oh the poor queen of the island,

The drones came to plunder the island. But fnug in her hive—the queen was alive,

And buz was the word at the ifland.

These proudpuff’dup cakes, thought to make ducks and drakes,

Of our wealth, but they scarcely could spy land,
L'er our Drake had the luck, to make their pride duck,
And stoop to the lads of the island;

Huzza, for the lads of the island;

The good wooden walls of the island. Devil or don,- let 'em come on,

But, how would they come off at the island.

I don't wonder much, that the French and the Dutch,

Have since been oft tempted to try land;
And I wonder niuch less, they have met no success,
For why should we give up our island:

Oh! 'tis a wonderful island,

All of 'em long for the island:
Hold a Lit there, (let 'em)--take fire and air;

But we'll have the sea and the illand,

Then, fince Freedom and Neptune have hitherto kept tune,

In each saying, This shall be my land:
Should the army of England, or all they could bring land;
We'd show 'em some play for the island;

We'd fight for our right to the island,

We'd give 'em enough of the island:
Frenchmen should just,—bite at our dust,

But not a bit more of the island.

ON ADMIRAL DUNCAN'S VICTORY,

ENROLL'D in our bright annals lives full many a gallant

name, But never British heart conceiv'd a prouder deed of fame, But never British heart conceiv'd, but never British heart

conceiv'd, A prouder deed of fame, a prouder deed of fame. To shield our liberties and laws, to guard our fou'reign's

crown, Than noble Duncan's mighty arm atchiev'd off Camperdown. To shield our liberties and laws, to guard our sov'reign's

crown, Immortal be the glorious deed atchiev'd off Camperdown.

October the eleventh it was, he spied the Dutch at nine,
'The British signal flew to break their close embattid line;
Their line was broke, for all our tars on that auspicious day
All bitter memory of the past had vow'd to wipe away.

Their line was broke, &c.