BONAPARTE'S WILL.

AS I am on a voyage bent,"
That may prove good or ill,
I thus confusion to prevent

Think fit to make my WILL,
And first Madame, my loving wife,
(Tho' sorry to forsake her),
I leave, should I depart this life,
TO BARRAS-if he'll take her.
She of unfruitful vines was one!
I wish he still had kept
her:
Then, happy, to a duteous son
I now might leave-my sceptre.
But not a needle do I care

Who wields it after me,
Provided he be no proud heir
Of Bourbon's family.

Then to my FELLOW CONSULS, next,
I leave their titled bubble-
To Talleyrand, this wholesome text,
"A man is born to trouble."
To my dear BROTHERS I bequeath
All they can get by rapine!
That is, provided that my death,

Ere I return, shall happen.
To my companions, brave in arms
(If they get safely over),

I give up all the wealth and charms,

Beyond the Cliffs of Dover.

My friends, the Italians, Dutch, and Swiss,

To me so true and steady,

I leave my fond fraternal kiss-

So now to die I'm ready.

HAFIZ.

Translated from the original

Morning Post.

WAR SONG.

BRITONS cease your long forbearing
Let insults fire your gen'rous blood;
Arouse, arouse, to martial daring,
And deeds of noble hardihood.

Proud Frenchmen brave us-quick assemble

Join Britannia's patriot band; Make these boasting Frenchmen tremble,

If they dare invade our land.

Freedom ever held her station

On this happy favour'd isle; Freedom calls ye, rouse, brave nation, Cease the works of Peace awhile. Shall Frenchmen threaten our enslav ing?

Shall slaves in Britain e'er be found; Shall Gallic banners, proudly waving, E'er be fix'd on British ground?

Now I mark your heart's quick motion;

Yes, let them come, I hear you cry; Yes, let them pass our subject ocean!

Yes, let them come, they come to die. Come, BONAPARTE, tyrant savage,

Thy armies marshal on our coast; Awhile thy slaves our fields may ravage,

But ruin soon shall 'whelm thy host. Gallant comrades, think of Cressy,

And Aboukir's well fought field, Departed heroes shades will bless ye,

Whilst the avenging sword you wield, Quick, ye gen'rous youths, assemble, Join Britannia's patriot band, Make those boasting Frenchmen tremble,

If they dare invade our land,,

All eager, arm'd, and steady,
On shore, and on the seas,
Her gallant sons are ready

To meet you when you please,
September's

September's reign is ended,
Our harvest safely home;
Then why, if you intend it,

Do you delay to come?

The nights are long and dark enough,

Your passe to secure;

But, lest the weauer should prove rough

Your fleet of boats-instre.

Britania though a small land,
Possesses wond'rous wealth:
Old Italy and Heiland,

And all you gain'd by stealth,
And all you got by dint of force,

With it cannot compare—
Here you may fill each empty purse,
And live on princely fare.

But mark! in this same speck of earth
A native plant is found,
Which from the day that gave it birth,
Has bloom'd all seasons round;
Tis deadly poison to the touch

Of Tyrants and of Slaves—
And sure as fate, ye French and Dutch!
Will send you to your graves.

Then come, ye gasconaders!
With all your tools of war,
And prove yourselves invadors
Of Britain-if ye dare.
All eager, arm'd, and steady,

On shore and on the seas,
Her gallant sons are ready
To meet you when you please.
Morning Post.

WAR SONG.

TUNE-“ God save the King"

BRITONS prepare, prepare,
Bellona mounts her car,

And cries "To arms!"

Her standard now unferi'd,
Strikes terror thro' the world,

Her darts with vengeance hurl'd,
Spread wide alarms

Sweet peace, once wont to smile
On this Heav'n-favor'd isle,
Alas! is filed!

A haughty tyrant's frown
Insults her fair renown;

Tom is the olive crown

Fron. Beauty's head.

Envy, that haz accorst,
Of all the viccs worst,

His heart inflames;
His threat Britannia heard :
Hark! plunder is the word!
U: sheath'd his murd ring sword
At distance gleams:

Core on, thou vaunting foe,
Britons shall let thee know

Where freedom shines. Their bullets, wing'd with fate, Scall teach thee, tho' too late, What vengeance does await

Thy rash designs,

God of our fathers, hear
Thy suppliant children's prayer,
Their cause defend.

So si all Britannia's sons
Defy his mirmydons,

And England's thund'ring guns
His projects end.

Their country's call inspires
Her sons with martial fires,
«To arms!” they cry,
Sewre her legions go
To meet th`invading fee, 1
The onk word they know,
CONQUER or DIE!

A SONG

J. S.

For the VOLUNTEERS in the Neigh bozriend of Woburn ABBEY,

EY JANES WILLIS, Esq.

AROUND the land the din of arms, Each heart with martial ardour warms!

We'll join the patriot band,

Determin'd to be free or fall,
We'll dauntless meet the braggart Gaul,

And Russel shall command.

Illustrious chief! to Britons dear,
Heir to that name which all revere,

Of Albion's isle the pride!
'Twaз to assert his country's canse,
Our rights, our liberty, our laws,
His great forefather died.

A patriot king now fills the throne,
Whose sacred sway with joy we own,

Our safeguard and our shield.

In his defence all hearts unite,
Each bosom burns with fierce delight,

And rushes to the field.

-Lo! where our free-born peasants join, With princes in th' embattled line;

One soul inspires them all. French spoilers from the earth to sweep, Or whelm them in the ruthless deep:

To conquer or to fall.

Kind love shall repay,

With unavailing groans obey

The despot's iron reign;

This soil no ruffian's bloody band,
No Gallic robbers grasping hand,
Unpunished, shall profane,
Here, if the tyrant dare to tread,
Swift vengeance on his guilty head,

In thunder shall be hurl'd.

High notes shall swell the trump of fame,

And nations hail, with loud acclaim,

The avenger of the world.

DUET AND CHORUS FOR FOUR
VOICES,

Compos'd by DR. G. BAKER of Derby,
STAND round my brave boys,
With heart and with voice,

And all in full chorus agree;

We'll fight for our King,

And as loyally sing,

And let the world know we'll be free,

And melt us to softer alarms; Coy Phillis shall burn,

At her Soldier's return,

And bless the brave youth in her arms.
The Frenchmen shall fly, &c

THE MAMMOTH,

SOON as the deluge ceas'd to pour
The flood of death from shore to shore
And verdure smil'd again;
Hatch'd amidst elemental strife,
I sought the upper realms of life,

The tyrant of the plain.

On India's shores my dwelling lay,
Gigantic, as I roam'd for prey,

All nature took to flight!

At my approach the lofty woods, Submissive bow'd,' the trembling floods Drew backward with affright.

Creation

Creation felt a general shock :
The screaming eagle sought the rock,
The elephant was slain;
Affrighted, men to caves retreat,
Tigers and Leopards lick'd my feet,

And own'd my lordly reign.

Thus many moons my course I ran,
The general foe of bcast and man,
Till on one fatal day,

The Lion led the bestial train,
And I, alas! was quickly slain,

As gorg'd with food I lay.

With lightning's speed the rumours

spread,

Batavian freedom floats in air,
The patriot Swiss, in deep despair,
Deserts his native land;
While haughty Spain her monarch sees
Submissive wait, on bended knees,

The tyrant's dread command.

All Europe o'er the giant stalks, Whole nations tremble as he walks, Extinct their martial fire;

The Northern Bear lies down to rest, The Prussian Eagle seeks her nest, The Austrian bands retire.

Yet ah! a storm begins to low'r .

dead,"

Resounds from shore to shore.

Pomona, Ceres, thrive again,
And laughing join the choral strain,

"The Mammoth is no more."

In earth's deep caverns long inmur'd, My skeleton from view secur'd,

In dull oblivion lav;

Till late, with industry and toil,
A youth subdu'd the stubborn soil,
And dragg'd ne forth to day,
In London now my body's shown,
And while the crowd o'er every bone

Incline the curious head,
They view my form with wond'ring

eve,

And pleas'd in fancied safety cry,

Thank Heav'n, the monster's dead!"

Ob mortals, blind to future ill,

My race yet lives, it
still;
prospers
Nay start not with surprize;
Behold, from Corsica's small isle,
Twin-born in cruelty and guile,

A second Mammoth rise!

He seeks on fortune's billows born,

A land by revolutions torn,

A prey to civil hate;
And, seizing on a lucky time,
Of Gallic frenzy, Gallic crime,

Assumes the regal state,

At ease the monster lies; Lion of Britain, led by you,

If Europe's sons the fight renew, A second Mammoth dies.