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638 |
ENGLISH SONG AND BALLAD MUSIC. |
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" Ah ! sacre Dieu! vat do me see yonder,
Dat look so tempting red and vite ? Begar it is de roast beef from Londre;
Oh, grant to me von litel bite! But to my pray'r if you give no heeding,
And cruel fate dis boon denies, In kind compassion unto my pleading,
Return, and let me feast mine eyes ! "
His fellow guard, of right Hibernian clay, Whose brazen front his country did betray, From Tyburn's fatal tree had thither fled, By honest means to gain his daily bread, Soon as the well-known prospect he de-
scry'd, In blubb'ring accents dolefully he cried :
" Sweet beef, that now causes my stomach So taking thy sight is, [to rise,
My joy that so light is, [my eyes.
To view thee, by pailsfull, tears run from
While here I remain, my life's not worth a Ah, hard-hearted Lewy, [farthing; Why did I come to ye ?
The gallows, more kind would have sav'd me from starving."
Upon the ground, hard by, poor Sawney
sate, . [pate;
Who fed his nose, and scratch'd Lis ruddy
But when old England's bulwark he
espy'd, [aside:
His dear lov'd mull, alas! was thrown
With lifted Lands he blest his native place,
Then scrubb'd himself, and thus bewail'd
his case:
" How hard, 0 Sawney, is thy lot,
Who was so blithe of late, To see sucL meat as can't be got, When hunger is so great. Oh, the beef! the bonny, bonny beef!
When roasted nice and brown; I wish I had a slice of thee,
How sweet it would gang down!
Ah, Charley! hadst thou not been seen, This ne'er Lad happ'd to me: |
I wou'd the de'il had pick'd mine ey'n, Ere I had gang'd with thee. Oh, the beef," &c.
But, see my muse to England takes her
flight! Where health and plenty socially unite ; Where smiling freedom guards great
George's throne, [not known.
And whips, and chains, and tortures, are That Britain's fame in loftiest strains
should ring, In rustic fable give me leave to sing.
(Tune of "Tlie Roast Beef of Old England.")
As once on a time, a young frog, pert and
vain, [plain,
Beheld a large ox grazing on the wide
He boasted his size he could quickly
attain.
Oh, the roast beef of old England ! And oh, the old English roast beef!
Then eagerly stretching his weak little
frame, [old dame,
Mamma, who stood by, like a knowing
Cry'd, Son, to attempt it you're surely to
Oh, the roast beef, &c. [blame.
But deaf to advice, lie for glory did thirst,
An effort he ventur'd more strong than
the first, [him burst.
Till swelling and straining too hard, made
Oh, the roast beef, &c.
Then, Britons, be careful, the moral is clear, [sieur;
The ox is old England, the frog is Mon-
Whose threats and bravadoes we never need fear,
While we have roast beef in old England. Sing oh, for old England's roast beef!
For while by our commerce and arts we
are able, [table,
To see the sirloin smoking hot on our
The French must e'en burst, like the frog
in the fable!
Oh, the roast beef, &c. |
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