Launch of the Boscawen,

                       84 GUNS,

From Woolwioh Dock Yard, Wednesday, April 3rd 1844

[NLS note: a graphic appears here - see image of page]

WHAT a fuss and a riot
Sure no one is quiet,
All roads out to London folks runing in flocks
I all the approaches
Swells coming in coaches,
To see the Boscawen ride off the stocks,
And from Wapping Old stairs
Came doxies in pairs.
And from Ratcliffhighway some sailors lso
Blind a Dick the Fiddler (staunch
And Jeremy Diddler,
Come rolling to Woolwich to see the ship
Launched.
               CHORUS.
Oh such pushing and driving
For all was contriving,
To see the Boscawen launeh'd in the
Thames.

From Greenwich and Deptford,
Jonny Russell from Bedford,
Being out of a birth came down for a lark,
Bobby Peel and D— Nosey,
In a cab came so cosey,
With Lucy Long and Jim Crow who they
met in the Park,
But on to keep jogging
They their knacker kept floggin,
And run foul of a post and capsized in the
Tho all got a ducking                 (docks
They still kept their pluck in
To see the Boscawe slide off the stocks.

See the vessels with streamers.
And all sort of steamers,
The like never was seen on old Father
Folks seemed in a q iver (Thames,
On all paats of the river.
As if going to have some curious games,
Said one I've a notion
All the world is in motion,
See th t old man there with his jolly paunch
There's Robert the dustman,
And Jarvey the Bussman,
Come lushy to woolwick to see the ship
launch.

From Billingsgate market,
Some fish fags did lark it,
To Woolwick by steam in the watermans
boat,
One eyed pig and Sally,
And Rate from the alley,
Determined to see the Borcawen afloat,
And out to Whitechapel,
With nuts cakes and apple,
Come Billey goloose who has had some hard
knocks,
With Teddy the Tiler,
And his hittle smilrr
To see the Boscawen launched oft of the
atocks

Sure no one was dreamers
there'd be such loaded steamers,
'Twas smoke steam and splashing the river
along,
No wherry was tolling
For the billows wae rolling
Like the sca was in motion there was such
a hrorg,
And to finish my ditty
I'll try to be witty
And a toast I'll propose in the Boscawen
hame,
May the sailors that man her
Ne'er be short of a tanner,
To well drub our foes on the watery main.

            Paul, Printer, Seven Dials