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Tune~See the conquering Hero comes.
SEE your fav'rite Hero comes,

Sound your fifes and beat your drums,
Slaves may make despotic strides,

But manly worth triumphant rides.
In this great and glorious fight,

Justice foon ihall set us right,
Venal fouls and treacherous hearts,

Soon shall meet their just deserts.
To redress an injured land

By your Champion firmly stand,
Truth will in the end decree,

Fox is crown'd with victory."
View yon hireling miscreant throng,

Led by a Coachman's silver thong,
But Freedom's Sons will Fox fupport,
Against a filly tool of Court.

Huzza! Fox and LIBERTY!
No Judas! No Jackson !

A NEW SONG on the WESTMINSTER ELECTION, in praise of Sam House's

affiduous Canvass, &c.
To the Tune of-Hark the Sound of the Drum.
SEE the friends of brave Fox, to the Huftings now flocks,

Noble hearts thus united so clever;
'Tis with joy now we say, it's all over with Wray,

Fox and Liberty, now boys, for ever, for ever, for ever!

Fox and Liberty, now boys, for ever!
See the brave Sammy House, he's as still as a mouse,

And does canvals with prudence so clever ;
See what shoals with him flocks, to poll for brave Fox,

Give thanks to Sam House, boys, for ever, for ever, for ever!

Give thanks to Sam House, boys, for ever !
Brave bald-headed Sam, all must own is the man,

Who does canvass for brave Fox so clever ;
His averfion, I say, is to small beer and Wray!

May bis bald head be honour'd for ever, for ever, for ever!

May his bald head be honour'd for ever!
Like Cæsar so bold, he will not be contrould,

Fox will surely esteem him for ever;
Which is due of course unto brave Sammy House,

For his head shall be crown'd like a Cæsar, a Cæsar, a Cæsar.
For his head shall be crown'd like a Cæsar.
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Sam's

Sam's goodiefs is known all over the town,

Tho' an oddity, still he is clever;
It's for his honest heart, where drefs has no part,

Fox will thank Sam, and love him for ever, for ever, for ever!
Fox will thank Sam, and love him for ever!

The Editors of this II ark return most grateful thanks to the Gentleman who transmitted to

them the following pointed composition, We perfeitly agree with our obliging correspondent in his opinion, respecting the Authorship: It carries with it in every line indubitable marks of its legitimacy. None but the witty writer of the celebrated BABY and Nurse SONG could have composed the one we here present to the public, as a correct and undoubted original. The only copy ever given out of the Author's hand, is at present in our polif 2011.

S ON G.

*BILLY'S TOO YOUNG TO DRIVE US.

IF life's a rough journey as moralifts tell,

Englithmen sure made the best on't :
On this spot of the earth, they bade liberty dwell,

While slavery holds all the relt on't;
They thought the best folace for labour and care,

Was a state independent and free, Sir;
And, this thought, tho' a curse that no tyrant can bear,
Is the blessing of you and of me, Sir.
Then while through this whirlabout journey we reel,
We'll keep unabus'd the best blessing we feel,
And watch ev'ry turn of the politic wheel

Billy's too young to drive us.
The car of Britannia we all must allow,

Is ready to crack with its load, Sir;
And wanting the hand of experience, will now

Most surely break down on the road, Sir;
Then must we poor passengers quietly wait,

To be crush'd by this mischievous spark, Sir;
Who drives a damn'd job in the carriage of state,
And got up like a thief in the dark, Sir.

Then while through this whirlabout, &c. &c.
They say that his judgment is mellow and pure,

And his principles virtue's own type, Sir,
I believe, from my soul, he's a son of a w-e,

And his judgment more rotten than ripe, Sir.
For, all that he boasts of, what is it in truth?

but that mad with ambition and pride, Sir,
He's the vices of age, for the follies of youth,
And a dumi'd deal of cunning beside, Sir.

Then while through this whirlabout, &c. &c.

The

The squires, whose reason ne'er reaches a span,

Are all with this prodigy struck, Sir;
And cry; “ it's a crime not to vote for a man,

“ Who's as chaste as a baby at fuck, Sir;" But

pray let me ask, had his viriue prevailid, What foul wou'd to heaven come near, Sir? Not one-for the whole generation had faild, And God's creatures had never been here, Sir.

Then while through this whirlabout, &c. &c. It's true, he's a pretty good gift of the gab,

And was taught by his dad on a stool, Sir;
But tho' at a speech he's a bit of a dab,

In the state he's a bit of a tool, Sir;
For Billy's pure love for his country was such,

He agreed to become the cat's paw, Sir;
And sits at the helm, while its turn'd by the touch
Of a reprobate fiend of the law, Sir.

Then while through this whirlabout, &c. &c.
Tho’reason united a North and a Fox,

The world of this junction complain, Sir; But what's that to his who joind with a pox,

To the cabinet pimp of the thane, Sir;
Who sold to a highflying Jacobite gang,

The credit of Chatham's great name, Sir;
That, pleas’d, we might hear a young puppet harangue,
While y-nk-nl-n plays the old game, Sir.

Then while through this whirlabont, &c. &c.
They say his fine parts are a mighty good prop

To push up Britannia's affairs, Sir;
But we all of us know, tho' he siands at her top,

Her bottom will die in defpair, Sir;
Then with freemen who on a fair bottom would tread,

Here's a toast that I'm sure will prevail, Sir;
BRITANNIA ! and may be ne'er stand at her head,
Who never can stand at her tail, Sir!

Then while through this whirlabout, &c. &c.

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A

NE W

SONG.

Tune-Rule, Britannia. HARK! I hear a well known voice,

Say, Britain fhall be great and free,
Her fame fhall rile, her fons rejoice,
And prelent times recorded be.

Hail! fair goddels, 'tis Britons fing of thee,
Thou guardian of our Liberty

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Deign

Deign to accept the homage due,

For interference in a cause,
When finking low we look to you,
To send us one to guard our laws.

Hail! &c.
Thy gracious favours we receive,

Thy choice of Fox we will hold dear;
For Liberty he'll never leave,
For thine's the cause he does hold dear.

Hail! fav’rite, hail! for ever may'st thou be

Protector of our Liberty. Let Faction reign and Discord rule,

Thou still halt rife and bloilom fair, While every servile courtly tool,

Is wither'd with thy rip'ning air.

Hail! choice of Freedom, for ever may'st thou be

The champion of, &c. Britons, assist the glorious cause,

Exert and Thew you still are brave; 'Tis Freedom's call protects your laws And shews the world you are not slaves.

Hail! choice of Freedom, &c.

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Tune- Hearts of Oak.
COME chear up, my lads, 'tis to Freedom we steer;
No tyrant dictators Thall manage us here;
No more shall they fend vile dependents on Court,
The birth-right of Britons they ne'er will support :

United by Freedom, in freedom remain;

See! Fox ftill is ready,

To our cause ever steady;

Huzza! we'll elect him again, and again,
Since first we adopted THE FOX as our choice,
To injure the nation he ne'er lent his voice:
His unshaken heart, stout, manly, and bold,
Could ne'er be corrupted our cause to have sold :

United by Freedom, &c.
Nor struggling, nor anxious for power, or place;
Nor pension, nor promise, his soul can disgrace;
By firmness and principle, form’d to withstand
The monster Corruption, that threatens the land :

United by Freedom, &c.

Our

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Our laws he'll defend, and our rights he'll protect,
Nor vote as a Baek Stairs Cabal Thall direct;
The Commons once more shall their honour regain,
And Liberty's triumph efface ev'ry stain.

United by Freedom, &c.
Let the tall lanky knight now skulk home to his den,
Delpis'd by all orders and classes of men;
I'd prefer the bold villain that takes the highway,
To the flave who his friend, or his trust, would betray.

Such wretches are foes to fair Freedom and Fame,

But Fox still is ready,

To our cause ever steady;
Huzza! we'll elect him again, and again!

A N E W S O

N 6,
Tune, -Let the Toast pass, &c.
TO Sir Cecil's defeat let us tune a new song,

Tho' much it may ftir up his gall, Sir,
For it plainly appears that it cannot be long,

Before his pride meets with a fall, Sir.

Then may each of us say,
May the devil take Wray,

And Charly and Liberty carry the day.
Into every stall and in every cell,

Sir Cecil keeps thrusting his nose, Sir,
But the Westminster folks fay the devil in hell,
Is as welcome wherever he

goes,

Sir.
Then let, &c.
To FOX and to Freedom we give our support,

Every Englishman feels it his duty,
When their cause is attack'd by the pow'r of the Court,
And defended by Virtue and Beauty.

Then let, &c.
Fair Devon' all good English hearts must approve,

And the Waldegraves (God bless their sweet faces)
The Duchess she looks like the sweet queen of love,
And they like the three fifter graces.

Then let, &c.
But behold Mrs. Ho-t with mouth like a dike,

And bloated cheeks daub'd very foul, Sir,
To one of the fair sex in truth she's as like,
As Venus is like to an owl, Sir.

Then let, &c.
Such a mass of fat blubber to canvass our votes,

'Tis indeed a most impudent freak, Sir,
Why her flesh hangs as loose as our ragged great coats,
And her face it is like a beef steak, Sir,

Then let, &c.

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