In story we're told

In story we're told How our Monarchs of old O'er France spread their royal domain; But no annals can show Their pride laid so low, As when brave GEORGE the second did reign.

Of Roman and Greek Let same no more speak How their arms the old world did subdue: Thro' the nations around Let our trumpets now sound How Britons have conquer'd the new.

East, west, north and south, Our cannon's loud mouth Shall the right of our Monarch maintain: On America's strand Amherst limit the land, Boscawen give law on the main.

Each poor and each town We still make our own, Cape-Breton, Crown point, Niagar; Guadaloupe, Senegal, Quebec's mighty sail Shall prove we've no equal in war.

Tho Constans did boast He'd conquer our coast, Our thunder soon made Monsieur mute, Brave Hawke wing'd his way, Then pounc'd on his prey, And gave him an English salute.

At Minden you know, How we conquer'd the foe, While homeward their army now steers; Tho', they cry'd, British bands Are too hard for our hands, Begar we can beat them in heels.

While our heroes from home For laurels now roam, Shou'd the flat-bottom boats but appear, Our militia shall show No wooden shoe foe Can with freemen in battle compare.

Our fortune, and lives, Our children and wives, To defend, is the time now or never; Then let each volunteer To the drum-head repair— King GEORGE and OLD ENGLAND forever.