Cavalier Tunes Give a rouse: here's, in hell's despite now, King Charles! To whom used my boy George quaff else, King Charles, and who's ripe for fight Give a rouse: here's, in hell's despite now, King Charles! 12 20 III 66 BOOT AND SADDLE Boot, saddle, to horse and away! Ride past the suburbs, asleep as you'd say; Many's the friend there, will listen and pray God's luck to gallants that strike up the lay— CHORUS.-Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!" 8 Forty miles off, like a roebuck at bay, array: Who laughs, "Good fellows ere this, by my fay, CHORUS.-Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!" I 2 Who? My wife Gertrude; that, honest and gay, Laughs when you talk of surrendering, “Nay! I've better counsellors; what counsel they? CHORUS.-Boot, saddle, to horse, and WHEN Britain first, at Heaven's command, Arose from out the azure main, This was the charter of the land, For Britons never will be slaves. The nations not so blest as thee Must, in their turns, to tyrants fall; While thou shalt flourish, great and free, The dread and envy of them all. Still more majestic shalt thou rise, More dreadful from each foreign stroke; As the loud blast that tears the skies England and America in 1782 Thee haughty tyrants ne'er shall tame; But work their woe, and thy renown. To thee belongs the rural reign; Thy cities shall with commerce shine; And every shore it circles thine. The Muses, still with Freedom found, Blest Isle with matchless beauty crowned, 1740. 18 22 26 James Thomson. ENGLAND AND AMERICA IN 1782 O THOU that sendest out the man Strong mother of a Lion-line, Be proud of those strong sons of thine 5 What wonder if in noble heat Those men thine arms withstood, 10 But Thou rejoice with liberal joy, And shatter, when the storms are black, The seas that shock thy base! Whatever harmonies of law The growing world assume, Thy work is thine-the single note 15 O MY Dark Rosaleen, Do not sigh, do not weep! The priests are on the ocean green, Upon the ocean green; And Spanish ale shall give you hope, My Dark Rosaleen! My own Rosaleen! Shall glad your heart, shall give you hope, Shall give you health, and help, and hope, My Dark Rosaleen! Over hills and thro' dales, Have I roam'd for your sake; 12 My Dark Rosaleen All yesterday I sail'd with sails The Erne, at its highest flood, For there was lightning in my blood, My own Rosaleen! O, there was lightning in my blood, All day long, in unrest, To and fro, do I move. To think of you, my Queen, My Dark Rosaleen! My own Rosaleen! To hear your sweet and sad complaints, Woe and pain, pain and woe, Are my lot, night and noon, But yet will I rear your throne Again in golden sheen; 36 |