E'en let them come-they'll find us bauld,

Determin'd, strong, an' brawny; An' they s'all be fu' tightly maul'd,' By Johnny Bull an' Sawny.

The wealthy coward, who desires
To save his purse and person,
The base-born peasant, who despairs,
Alike I give a curse on :

And let them lie at home securè,
Nor in our ranks appear;

Hae pledg'd ilk ither fully,

To guard the Rights, o' whilk they

boast,

With grief to Volunteer.

With hands united, thus we swear,

As Heaven our purpose views, sir, To die, or extirpate from hence

The invader and his crews, sir.
And O may God assist our arm!

Then who dare talk of fears?
Huzza! for life, for liberty,
We fight, brave Volunteers!

WAR SONG.

By a Member of the College Corps Dublin. WARRIORS! see the Invader nearWarriors! now the standard rearGrasp the sabre-point the spearWarriors! rise.

By the Hero's hallow'd fame :
By the Coward's deathless shame :
By Ireland's injur'd honour'd name :-

By Borhoime's Shade, whose, dying hand,

On the bloody Clontarf strand,
Swept the wild Dane from the land :—
Warriors! rise.

Onward to the battle go;
Bid the Atheist Plunderer know
Our breasts with Irish valour glow:

If, trusting to his faith, we yield,
The die is cast-your doom'is seal'd-
Remember Jaffa's murderous field!

Warriors! rise.

By

When did the Frenchman learn to spare
The kneeling Parent's hoary hair,
Or soften to the Infant's prayer?
Tho' Fate or Fortune waft him o'er,
Teach him, if once he treads our shore,
He treads it-to return no more.
Wariors! rise.

See! yonder see his banners wave!
Father! Brothers! Sons! be brave-
Give him no ground, but for his grave.

What, tho' his countless hosts pour on-
What tho' on earth we stand alone,
To shield the Temple and the Throne→→
Warriors! rise.

By the Captive's galling chain, A
By the polluted, plundered fane-
The ruin'd cot-the soaking plain—
On! Warriors !-to the battle go,
Squadrons sweeping on the foe,
Strike the exterminating blow.
Warriors! rise.

No common cause demands.

our aid,

To guard from ruffians hand Our King,-our Laws, our Wives,→ our babes

Our Fathers' happy land. ‹
And though at home, or bound afar,
OLD ENGLAND is our leading Star.

Th' endearing thought, now danger's high,

Adds vigour to the soul,
5 gm of
To conqueror to nobly die—

And scorns all base control.
For though at home, or bound afar,
OLD ENGLAND is our leading Star.
Ah

look on yonder blood-stain'd shores; a git - gel There view th' Usurper's pow'r— Where poison, murder, rapine stalks, Where social life's no more! Then, while we view those scenes afar, Blest ENGLAND be our leading Star!

Ah, hapless Nations; had ye rous'd In time me your hardy Swains, on b The Tyrant ne'er had boudage chain'd

Upon your peaceful plains!

While, then, we view such scenes afar, Blest ENGLAND be our leading Star! bro

Then, Britons, rise!and to your cliffs;

Be there your Flag unfurl'd— Go!-hurl th' Invaders down the deep, And save a falling world. (2 For though at home, or bound afar, OLD ENGLAND is our leading Star. British Neptune.

WARD

WARD ASSOCIATIONS.

Written by a Member of the SouthEast District of Loyal Londen Volunteers.

I see no cause of fearing;

All songs should be from Volunteers,

In praise of volunteering : Unskill'd my lay, sincere my verse, The theme with pow'r inspires us; And while our duties we rehearse,

With loval ardour fires us.

Then ev'ry hand and heart combine,
We need not fear invasion;

While high in Loyalty shall shine,
Each Ward Association.

While martial ardour fills each breast,
Remember still your duty;
We are not boys, in tinsel drest,

To lure the eye of beauty;
Tho' young in arms, in brave array,

We well know how to place them;
Our heroes oft have led the way,
And we will ne'er disgrace them.
Then every hand, Sc.

Felicity to keep in view,

Mankind should live as brothers;

Let us that harmony pursue,
We wish to teach to others.
Let conscience yield the wish'd ap-
plause,

No strife our peace suspending;
But steadfast in one glorious cause,
Unite, our Rights defending,

Then ev'ry hand, Ec.

We sure must doubly beat them.

Then ev'ry hand, &c,

Long mat our Officers, possess.
Life, liberty, and wealth too;
Urg'd by that love we all profess,

Our King, let's drink a health to:
The Toast push round with lively zeal,
With " Lamity to Faction !”-
And what our loyal bosoms feel,
Let's shew, in loyal action;
Then ev'ry hand, &c.

A YORKSHIRE SONG. TUNE-" Hosier's Ghost." HARK! the din of embarkation Blusters from yon hostile shore: We, with "note of preparation,"

Echo back the thundering roar." England, still to fear a stranger,

Dares the tyrant to advance;

Single-handed copes with danger,
And defies the hosts of France.
To the beach her sons descending,

Rush to meet the murderous foe;
From their spheres of lustre bending,

Sainted warriors bless each blow. Fierce the strife, but quickly ended,

When the patriot girds his thigh; And, by English hearts attended,

Swears--to triumph, or to die. Solemn oaths, brave YORSHIRE bind thee,

Pledged in heaven's recording sight : O then, let thy country find thee

Foremost in the van of fight ! With the blood of France all gory,

Haply on thy front a scar; Think, what then shall be thy glory,

Borne in conquest's crimson car.

Then

His dear, dear country's hope and

stay

A pillar in our peerless state,

In glory's crown a brilliant ray. Now, while the martial clangour sounds,

And wide the waving banners fly, How eagerly his bosom bounds!

What lightning flashes in his eye!
Awake, ye minstrels, wake the lyre,

Full let the mighty descant flow,
For him who breathes heroic fire,
And hurls defiance at the foe.
A gentler breath pervades the sky,
And soft that beam of orient day!
Was it a maiden's tender sigh?

Her melting blue eye's dewy ray? Cease gentle maiden, cease to mourn; Let no alarm your bosom move; Soon will the valiant youth return, 1

Victorious, to your faithful love.

"Go forth, my gallant sons, and save

Your country from a cruel, foe: The rage of bloody conflict-brave, A

And lay the proud oppressor low. Despise his menace, scorn his wiles,

And lay him spurning in the dust! For Heaven on your endeavour smiles; To Heaven for timely succour trust.” TYRTEUS BRITANNICUS.

1

THE BRITISH SAILOR,

BY THE LATE DR. CROSSFIELD.

LIQUID mountains roll, Shake from your heads the hoary spray ; Ye cannot daunt the Seaman's soul, Though danger spreads the pathless

·way. ·

Vivid lightnings flash,

Blow tempests, bellow thunders dire, The Seaman braves the dreadful

crash, Though billows to the clouds aspire.