THE TIGHT BLOCKADE.
If that old Bear in Boots, the Czar,
Will drag old England into war,
Our fleet shall sail to Turkey's aid,
And we'll try the operation of a tight blockade.
We'll close each port along the shore
Of this confounded Bear—and Bore—
And if we can't his realm invade,
We'll shut up all his harbours with a tight blockade.
His hides and tallow we'll confine
With sundry vessels of the line;
In corn, too, we shall stop his trade.
'Twill be under the restriction of a tight blockade.
For all his troops, for all his hordes,
For all their lances and their swords,
To change his tune he may be made,
By a steady perseverance in a tight blockade.
If out of that he tried to dash—
And oh that he may be so rash!—
We'd pound him into marmalade.
What a happy termination of the tight blockade!
No matter if old Nick we drub,
Though we debar ourselves of grub,
Which might to Britain be conveyed,
But that Russian corn will lie beneath a tight blockade.
Each blow we deal at him will fall
Upon ourselves, both great and small;
But Honour's call must be obeyed,
And alas! it only can be by a tight blockade.
Would we could with the demon close;
Like Dunstan, seize him by the nose;
Old Nicholas would soon be laid,
And there wouldn't be occasion for the tight blockade.