No peace with Frenchmen were I to…

No peace with Frenchmen were I to direct, But bang 'till you've bang'd them to proper respect. To the gates of Versailles shou'd our cannon advance, And the grenadier's march should frighten all France. This my boys we'd do with glee For Royal George and liberty, George the third and liberty. Come fill your glasses, drink with me, The words are George and liberty. Let's and pray 'em and slay 'em on land and on main, We have, my lads, often, and why not again? Their Cressy and Poictiers and Agincourt shew, What we, boys, when pitted with Frenchmen can do. To action then, my boys, with glee, &c.

How oft we've been cheated by art and chicane. But now we can tell them such efforts are vain: That feuds are destroy'd, and that party's a joke, And now we're united, we're not to be broke. But one and all will fight with glee, &c.

Whene'er the King pleases to say do it now, Hawke, Tyrrel and Saunders, brave Granby and Howe, Shall burn, sink, and plunder, and lower their notes, In spite of the devil, and flat-bottom boats. To deeds like these they'd go with glee, &c.

See our rocks that defend us and taunt 'em with scorn, See our prudent young monarch, to whom a son's born; See, of traitors regardless, he smiles on his throne, For he knows that each heart in his kingdom's his own. And that each arm would strike with glee, &c.