A NEW SONG IN PRAISE OF
The Derbyshire Militia.
This song is of the period from 1780 to 1790, and is here given from a broad-sheet in my own collection. It is the only copy I have as yet met with. At the head of the song is a wood-cut of three soldiers seated round a table, smoking. On the table is a punch-bowl and glasses. On the same sheet is "The Pressed Man's Lamentation," a song of four verses, beginning, "Farewell our Daddies and our Mammies." At the head is a wood-cut of two ships at sea, one of which has struck on a rock.
Should the French but presume on our coast to appear,
We'll meet them as freely as we would drink beer
With courage undaunted
Or glory enhance,
Nor let our roast Beef be a dainty to France,
Be this our ambition
In chorus to sing,
He's just to himself who is true to his king.
So brave our Commanders so generous and kind,
To love and obey them we are all inclin'd,
No Terror nor Dread
In our conduct is shewn,
Their good and our King we prefer to our own.
Be this our ambition
In chorus to sing
He's just to himself who is true to his King.
Those false-hearted fellows who fall from their lot,
And others procure as they think to be shot,
Deserve with a badge
To be branded with Shame,
They are not of Britains deserving the name,
But make us quite angry
Whilst that we sing,
They're untrue to themselves their Country and King.
We are willing and free now the Order is come,
From Derby to march with the fife and the drum.
Come fill up your glasses
Boys up to the brim,
That they mayn't overflow let us chalk round the rim,
Let each take his bumper
And drive away care,
With a Toast to the King and the Duke of Devonshire.
To our Wives and our Sweethearts that we must leave behind,
We hope all true britons to them will be kind,
Altho that we go
For the term of three years,
And as we expect to face proud Monsieurs,
If we live to return
Then we'll merrily sing,
And we'll drink a good health unto George our King.
The Florist's Song.
The Florists' Society of Derby flourished in the latter part of last century. Its meetings were held at the Angel Inn, in the Corn-market; and it held exhibitions, at which prizes were awarded. The following song was sung at the convivial meetings of its members, and is here reprinted from a broad-sheet in my own possession.