YE PARLIAMENT OF ENGLAND.
[This rudely constructed song—evidently composed in the forecastle, where poets are not exigent in the matter of rhymes, is included in this collection, notwithstanding its imperfections, because of the hold it took upon the minds of patriotic people. It was still a favorite song in many parts of the country as late as 1859, and it is valuable as a reflection of the spirit in which the War of 1812-14 was regarded by those who fought it.—Editor.]
Ye parliament of England,
You lords and commons, too,
Consider well what you're about,
And what you're going to do;
You're now to fight with Yankees,
I'm sure you'll rue the day,
You roused the sons of liberty,
In North America.
You first confined our commerce,
And said our ships shant trade,
You next impressed our seamen,
And used them as your slaves;
You then insulted Rogers,
While ploughing o'er the main,
And had not we declarèd war,
You'd have done it o'er again.
You thought our frigates were but few,
And Yankees could not fight,
Until brave Hull your Guerrière took
And banished her from your sight.
The Wasp then took your Frolic,
We'll nothing say to that,
The Poictiers being of the line,
Of course she took her back.
The next, your Macedonian,
No finer ship could swim,
Decatur took her gilt-work off,
And then he sent her in.
The Java, by a Yankee ship
Was sunk, you all must know;
The Peacock fine, in all her plume,
By Lawrence down did go.
Then next you sent your Boxer,
To box us all about,
But we had an Enterprising brig
That beat your Boxer out;
We boxed her up to Portland,
And moored her off the town,
To show the sons of liberty
The Boxer of renown.
The next upon Lake Erie,
Where Perry had some fun,
You own he beat your naval force,
And caused them for to run;
This was to you a sore defeat,
The like ne'er known before—
Your British squadron beat complete—
Some took, some run ashore.
There's Rogers in the President,
Will burn, sink, and destroy;
The Congress, on the Brazil coast,
Your commerce will annoy;
The Essex, in the South Seas,
Will put out all your lights,
The flag she waves at her mast-head—
"Free Trade and Sailor's Rights."
Lament, ye sons of Britain,
Far distant is the day,
When you'll regain by British force
What you've lost in America;
Go tell your king and parliament,
By all the world 'tis known,
That British force, by sea and land,
By Yankees is o'erthrown.