Tit for Tat : A Sea Kick for a Land Cuff

Ring, ring out our bells ! and to Calais from Dover
Let our cannons loud roar carry France the news over,
That the balance of land and sea war we've brought home,
And our prizes, at Portsmouth, pay their Bergen-opzoom.
So Huzzah ! to King George, boys; long, long may he reign,
By the right of old England, long lord of the main !
So Huzzah ! to King George, etc.

Now hark ! and you'll hear (and with truth 'twill be told)
How the seas have been swept by his true hearts of gold :
In the month of October, to West Indies bound,
A fleet so becrowded with numbers we found,
Tho' our ken could not count 'em, our first chasing gun
Observ'd 'em less forward to fight than to run.
Tho' our ken could not count Jem, etc.

All, all hands aloft, and away 'fore the wind,
Full sail sped their merchants, from convoys behind ;
Yet, to do their tall ships the true honour we owe 'em,
Tho' to beat was above 'em, to fly was below 'em.
But their cargoes, in danger, had no time to talk;
So like pigeons they flew from our bold British Hawk.
But their cargoes', in danger , etc.

Now broadsides to broadsides, smash ! thro' and thro' boring,
Made the sea seem a forest of lions all roaring !
But the Severn's bruised ribs felt our shot fly so sore,
That her loud fifty mouths never spoke a word more.
So silenc'd we left her, without more concern,
To be catch'd, as we saw, by our frigates astern.
So silent?d we left her, etc.

Of their Trident our Devonshire came alongside,
And souse ! in her guts, such a dose did she hide,
That the rummaging pills almost work'd her to death,
For she soon, like the Severn, lay gasping for breath.
Then bounce ! came their Terrible—foul on a Tartar;
But she too sung small, till she cry'd out for quarter.
Then bounce ! came their Terrible, etc.

Now shatter'd and batter'd (Morbleu ! such a sight!)
Their Thunder knock'd under, and stole off by night;
When six of their squadron, that scarcely could creep,
We lugg'd and tugg'd home, in our harbours to sleep.
And so large were their hulks, tho' we ply'd 'em with rubbing,
To be sure their thick hides took a good deal of drubbing.
And so large were their hulks, etc.

And now, the next year, when the prizes we've made
By our own hands are mann'd out, we'll drive a French trade;
While the sea is our market, for squadrons we'll barter,
And give for first rates only bullets and quarter !
So, Huzzah ! to King George, boys ; long, long may he reign,
By the right of old England, long lord of the main.
So, Huzzah ! etc.

While our salt water walls so begird us about,
And our cruisers, and bruisers, keep good looking out,
What force need old England to fear can offend her,
From France, or from Spain, or a Popish Pretender ?"
So, Huzzah ! to King George, boys; long, long may he reign,
By the right of old England, long lord of the main.
So Huzzah! etc.