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                    THE
     INVASION OF FRANCE,
    BY LORD WELLINGTON

Compoſed by John Newett,20th regiment of Foot.

You heroes of old England I pray now attend,
To the battles that's been fought in Portigal and Spain,
By brave Wellington that here of England's boaſt and pride,
What stories he has gaſued over the French,          [dour,
Brave Wellington that Hero,he fought them with great ſplen-
His and his Dombs they rattled inthe all like thunder,
At the entrance of Spain the French tried out amain,
Still he followed on with vigour and tought moſt valiantly,
                                             Huzza, huzza,&c.
                         Brave Wiitington for ever boys,huzza,

At the ofSt.Sebaſtian his fame further renowned,
His and his bomb-ſhells he ſent into the town;
It cauſed many a ſoldier to bleed upon the ground;
While that hero Wellington did them ſurround,
Soon the curtain it did fall, we did undermine the wall,
Which made the old governor for mercy to call,
When he heard the bitter groans of the wounded that did lie
Still we followed on with vigour and fought moſt gallantly,
                                                       Then huzza, &c.

Again at Pampeluna the French did there abide,
Like fokes in their holes cloſe up themſelves did hide,
But Wellington perceived their holes wherein they went,
And did well Underſtand their full intent,
But at length the French came and made a ſortie,
And brave gallant Wellington ſoon made them back to fly.
Into their holes again awhile there to remain,
While brave Wellington laid his plan to fetch them
                                                       Still huzza, &c.

As ſoon as night came on for the paſs-roads they did run,
They left Pampeluna to gallant Wellington,
So early in the morning he found the French all gone,
And ſoon alter them he did advance along,
With his 1st and 5th diviſions, guns and ammunition too,
He cleared the paſs-roads all the way as he did go,
Atthe entrance ofFrance he made the French to dance,
Still he followed on with vigour and fought moſt gallantly,
                                                       hen huzza, &c.

I have but this to ſay but like a heroclears his way,
From Portugal and Spain he drove them to France again,
Where he croſſ'd the Bidaſſoa and cloſely followed them,
There he kill'd and took ſeyen hundred Frenchmen,
NowMarſhal Soul he has return'd to Bonaparte by chance,
There he told him that Wellington he had got into France,
Then ſays Bonaparte I wiſhhere I ne'er had come,
For I'm ſure the French nation at this time will be undone,
                                                       And huzza, &c.

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                THE

    WINTER'S EVENING.

'TWAS on one winter's evening when faſt
fell down the ſnow,
Careleſs was the wide world, the bitter blaſt
A damſel all forlorn bewailing on her way,
I'll hug thee tomy boſom ſhe toher child
did ſay.

Cruel was my father to ſhut the door on me,
And cruel was my mother that dreadful fight
to ſee.
Cruel was the winter's night that pierced my
heart with cold,
And cruel was the young man that left his
love for gold,

Huſh my pretty baby I'll hug thee to my
breaſt,
Little does your father think now ſadly we're
diſtreſt,
Altho' we're at a diſtance, he know not
what we feel.
I'll hug thee to my boſom from theſe bitter
piercing gales.

Ah! now my pretty baby thy little life
is gone,
Oh! may my tears revive thee that now runs
trickling down,
Altho' my tears run down ſo faſt they freeze
before they fall,
Ah !wretched, wretched mother you are the
worſt ofall.

Then down ſhe fell diſtracted all on the
driven ſnow,
With killing grief and anguiſh lamenting
grief and woe,
She kiſs'd her baby's cold lips and plac'd it
by her ſide,
Lifting her eyes to heaven ſhe bow'd her
head and died.