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Our Britiſh Boys are always ſtaunch,
true to their King and Country,
No French Bombaſt they dread or fear,
ſuch they lock up in a Pantry,
And ſerve it out " pro bona fit."
of thoſe who do adhere, Sir,
To Britain and their Sovereign's cauſe,
in deſending which we join, Sir.

         CHORUS.

In ſhowing arms to bang the French,
John Bull to bang Signior, Sir,
Till once the Fool his Folly kens
when this iſle he dares invade, Sir.

Aye, he talks embarking troops,
to fight th' United Kingdom,
His Bum-boats will turn out Hen-coops,
his troops to ſerve at random.
His Egyptian Army we can tell,
embalm'd he left as Mummies :
But when on Britain's ſhore he lands
he'll leave us as he found us.

         CHORUS.

Britain's Sons will bang thee well,
and lang to be before you,
And one ſhall be ſent by himſel'
to France to tell the ſtory.

God bleſs our King, our noble King,
our Heroes and Commanders ;
We hope to live and form a Ring,
as tried Salmanders.