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The Grand Conversation

             ON NAPOLEON.

IT was over that wild beaten track a friend of bold Buonaparte
Did pace the sands and lofty rocks of St. Helena's shore,
The wind it blew a hurricane, the lightning's flash around did dark,
The sea-gulls were shrieking, and the waves around did roar ;
Ah ! hnsh,rude winds, the stranger cried,a while lrange the dreary
Where last a gallant hero his envied eyes did close,            (spot,
But whilst his valued limbs do rot, his name will never be forgot,
This gran conversation on Napoleon arose.

Ah England ? he cried, did you persecute that hero bold,
Much better had yon slain him on the plains of Waterloo ;
Napoleon he was a friend to heroes all, both young and old,
He caus'd the money for to fly wherever he did go ;
When plans were ranging night and day, the bold commander to be
He cried, I'll go to Moscow, & then 'twill ease my woes, (tray
If fortune shines without delay, then all the world shall me obey,
This grand conversation on Napoleon arose.

Thousands of men he then did rise, to conquer Moscow by su-
He led his men across the Alpsoppress'd by frost & no         p,
But being near the Russian land he then egan to ope his eyes
For Moscow was a burning, and the men drove to and fro,
Napoleon dauntless viewed the flame,and wept in anguish font
He cried, retreat my gallant men, for time so swiftly goes,(sam
What thousands died on that retreat, some forced their horses fo
This grand conversation on Napoleon arose.                  (to eat

Waterloo his men they fought, commanded by great Bouparten
Commanded by field marshal Ney,and he was bribed by gold ,n
When Bluche led the Russians it nearly broke Napoleon' s hear
He cried my thirty thousand men are kill'd, and I am sold;,e
He view'd the plan & cried it's lost, he then his favourite charge,
The plain was in confusion with blood and dying woes, (cross'd
to bunch of roses did advance, and bold y entered into France,
Thisgrand conversation on Napoleon arose.
But Buonaparte, was plann'd to be a prisoner across sea,
The rocks of St. Helena, it was the fatal spot,
nd as a prisoner there to be till death did end his misery,
His son soon followed to the tomb, it was an awful plot,
And long enough have they been dead,the blast of war is round u
And may our shipping float again to face the dating foes, [ spread
And now my boys when honour calls we'll boldly mount the wood-
This g'and conversation on Napoleon arose                  [en walls

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                       THE

               Brave Old Oak

J. Catnach, Printer, 2, & 3, Monmouth-court, 7 Dials.

A song to the Oak, the brave old Oak,
Who hath ruled in the green wood
long,                                     (crown,
Here's health & renown to his broad green
And his fifty arms so strong.          (down,
There's fear in his frown, when the sun goes
And the fire in the west fades out,
And he sheweth his might on a wild mid-
        night,                                      (sh
When the storm through his branc

Then here's to the oak, the brave e
        Who stands in his pride alone. (o
And still flourish he a hail green t
When a, hundred years are gone.

In the days of old when the spring wit
Had brsghtened his branches grey, (cold
Through the grass at his feet, crept ma
To gather the dew of May.            (
And on that day at the rebeck gay,
They frolick'd with lovesome swains,
They are gone—they are dead—in
        church-yard laid,
But the tree it still remains.
                Then here's. &c.

He saw the rare times when the Christmas
Was a merry sound to hea , (chime
When the squires wide hall & the cottage
        small
Where fill'd with good English cheer
Now gold hath the sway....we all obey,
And a ruthless king is he,
But he never shall send our ancient friend
To be tossed on the stormy sea.
                Then here's to the oak c.