Each night, when in my slumbers, I can’t find any rest,
Love for my lad so dearly reigns within my burning breast,
Sometimes I dream I do enjoy my love’s sweet company,
And closely locked in my arms, on board the Victory.
His teeth were white as ivory, his hair in ringlets hung,
His cheeks like blooming roses, all in the month of June,
He is lively, tall and handsome, in every degree,
My heart lies in his bosom, on board the Victory.
Here’s success unto the Victory, and crew of noble fame,
And glory to the noble lord, bold Nelson, was his name,
In the battle of Trafalgar, the Victory cleared the way,
And my love was slain with Nelson upon that very day.
THE BATTLE OF NAVARINO.[42]
You’ve heard of the Turks and the Greeks,
For all Europe’s been told their bad habits,
How they cut down each other like leeks,
And the Turks slaughter children like rabbits:
But John Bull could bear it no more,
Said he, you death dealers, I’ll stop you,
And if you don’t both soon give o’er,
I swear by St. George, that I’ll whop you.
But the Turks supposed John was in jest,
Or concluded he was but a Green-o,
So they mustered their fleet all the best,
And lay in the Port Navarino.
Death and famine they carried before’t,
And shot the poor Grecians by flocks, Sir,
Said our Tars, “We’ll go join in the sport,
And bring down a few Turkey Cocks, Sir.”
Then our Admiral boldly went in,
Said he, “Mr. Turk, just a word here,”
But they answered him with a foul grin,
And a dirty trick something like murder.
Then Codrington proudly arose,
Said he, “Do they take us for dull logs?
Well, since they’re determined on blows,
Go at ’em, my brave British bull dogs.”
Now the Turk thought our ships were his prey,
And hoped soon to take them in tow-a,
The Asia then led on the way,
And next came the brave ship Genoa!
The Tars then bang’d into the Turks,
As they do to all foes that would wrong us,
The Musselmen cried, “Here’s your works!
Oh Mahomet! The Devil’s upon us.”
The French took a share in the fun,
The Russians proved willing and able,
In three hours the business was done,
And the turkeys dished up for the table.
They were cooked to their heart’s full desire,
’Twas not a mere frizzle or toasting,
But it seems they’d too much of the fire,
And were d——ly burnt in the roasting.