Of bloody skirmish, sad defeat,
Of Moreau's wonderful retreat;
But lest we should, by such procedure,
Your patience harass, gentle reader,
We'll bid our nag poetick prance
To view the interiour part of France,
And see, by mobocrat distracted,
The part of Satan over-acted!
State revolutions, every moon,
Secure dame Freedom's shadowy boon;
The wisest men the prisons haul'd in,
Armies by savage tyrants call'd in;
The constitution thus infringing,
Give stubborn patriots a singeing.
Of two Directors,* who were honest,
One banish'd is, the other non est ;†
And legislators, more than fifty,
That liberty might flourish thrifty,
+ Carnot was a long time missing, and supposed to be assassinated.
Without defence, without a hearing,
Or any marks of guilt appearing,
Are sent, by Freedom's mild decree,
To end their days beyond the sea,
Or else, perhaps, a scuttled boat in
To stand a lousy chance for floating.
See sister Gallia make wry faces, To lure American embraces;
By bulletins, arrets abusive,
Claims all our trade, by right exclusive,
More lawless than a drunken pirate
She storms and blusters at a high rate,
And imitating fierce Algiers,
Sends forth her hordes of privateers ;
A cruel gang of fell marauders
Are fitted by Directors' orders,*
To bid each unarm❜d brig defiance,
And plunder vessels in alliance.
* The infamous French Directory were even partici. pators of the plunder acquired by acts of piracy on the American commerce.
Now England lends her powerful aid,
A firm protection to our trade,
Belabours bucaniers with sad knocks,
And helps us out of many a bad box.
England, invincible at sea,
Before whom dons and monsieurs flee,
Has block'd up Cadiz, Brest, and so forth,
And dons and monsieurs dare not go forth;
And mynheers too, coop'd up in Texel,
With anger foam enough to vex hell,
But still the devil a bit of one can
Get by the English Admiral Duncan !
At length De Winter ventures out, The coast is clear, he makes no doubt, Thinks Duncan will not treat a man ill Who calmly courses through the channel, But soon the latter, overjoy'd To find the Hollander decoy'd, Pursues him like audacious eagle In quest of plover, snipe, or sea-gull.
But now we such a fray get sight on, Muse, bring the conch-shell of old Triton ;
And, when the battle's well a going,
Just set the green-ey'd dog a blowing!
Bid Proteus charge with thirty-pounders,
Or head a cavalcade of flounders !
Thetis emerge from cave of chrystal,
And all indignant cock a pistol!
Let dame Dione, dainty dripping,
Make horrid clatter mid the shipping!
Neptune leave Mistress Amphitrite,
And join the battle hoity-toity!
Gods, flock from every point of compass,
And make a devil of a rumpus!!!
But stop, your merciless reviewers
Will shit the bard on Satire's skewers,
For introducing such machinery
To cumber his poetick scenery.
Avaunt, be all this pagan stuff,
And tell in English, plain enough,
How Duncan Dutchmen sadly treated,
Stout Admiral Winter's fleet defeated,
And captur'd vessels nine or ten,
And kill'd, God knows, how many men!
Full many a Dutchman took a notion
To try a voyage beneath the ocean,
Where Captain Death his flag unfurl'd,
And anchor'd him in t'other world!
Behold the famous Admiral Jervis
Has Spaniards much at suit and service,
Scatters their fleet like grass on hay-days,
And takes their Santa Trinidadas.
'Tis true, not many could he win since
He was created Lord St. Vincent's,
For Spaniard thinks his fortune made is
If he secure himself in Cadiz,
And force, nor art can ever make him,
His Lordship, give a chance to take him.
We might come back to England's shore, To ken the mutiny at Nore;
Might notice British tars defection,
And Parker, heading insurrection,-
How Faction's hobby-horse first flung him,
And then administration hung him ;
Might trouble you with long narration
Of Billy Pitt's administration;
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