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SONGS AND BALLADS
Her balls of fire, the Flemming sees, Are thrice as big as a Holland cheese,
With a thump, etc. ; And now they ran, they ran, they ran, And left poor Zealand shift as it can; They made him there rere, who would be the van-
— Van Trump, Trump, Trump, etc.
The King's own colours (Red and White) Pursu'd the Boors all day and night,
With a thump, etc. O how 'twould Lords and Commons please To see our Soveraign of the Seas Chasing their Seven Provinces,
With a thump, etc.
Over fiatts and banks we fir'd their tails Till we heard their croaking nightingales,
With a thump, etc. This difference 'twixt two navies stands : Ours built for the sea, and theirs for the sands ; We had sent them else to their last Netherlands
With a thump, thump, etc.
Their shott still at our tackling flew, Lest when they ran we should pursue,
With a thump, etc. ; For though the Dutch are sea-men grown, Bold English are the marks-men known, And therefore kill them six for one,
With a thump, thump, etc.
Our rere was Smith, with other two (Spragge and Kempthorn) both true blew,
With a thump, etc. And here the Zealanders came on, Who stoutly gave us gun for gun, Till Holland-like they also run,
With a thump, thump, etc.
' In, in, in, in,' said valiant Spragge, ' Wee'l beat this vapouring Trump to th' Hague ' With a thump, etc. |
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