Pish, I had e'en as good go out again,

327

The humerous Author of this,

When Britain's prosperous Fortune,
When Wit and Science flourish'd
Y'have seen me Dance, and ye have,

Pills to Purge Melancholy.

VOL. VI.

A BALLAD on the Battle of Audenard.
Set by Mr. LEVERIDGE.

E Commons and Peers,

Pray lend me your Ears,

I'll Sing you a Song if I can ;

How Lewis le Grand,

Was put to a Stand,

By the Arms of our Gracious Queen ANN.

VOL. VI.

B

How

How his Army so great,
Had a total Defeat,

Not far from the River of Dender;
Where his Grand-Children twain,
For fear of being slain,

Gallop'd off with the Popish Pretender.

To a Steeple on High,
The Battle to Spy,

Up Mounted these clever young Men;
And when from the Spire

They saw so much Fire,
They cleverly came down again.
Then a Horse-back they got,
All upon the same spot,
By advice of their Cousin Vendosme;
O Lord! cry'd out he

Unto young Burgundy,

Wou'd your Brother and you were at Home.

Just so did he say

When without more delay, Away the young Gentry fled; Whose Heels for that Work

Were much lighter than Cork,

But their Hearts were more heavy than Lead.

Not so did behave

The young Hannover brave
In this bloody Field I assure ye;
When his War-Horse was shot,
Yet he matter'd it not,

But charg'd still on Foot like a Fury.

When Death flew about

Aloud he call'd out,

Ho! you Chevalier of St. GEORGE;

If you'll never stand

By Sea nor by Land,

Pretender, that Title you forge.

Thus

Thus boldly he stood,

As became that high Blood, Which runs in his Veins so blue; This Gallant young Man

Being kin to Queen ANN,

Fought as were she a Man, she wou'd do.

What a Racket was here,

(I think 'twas last Year)
For a little ill Fortune in Spain;
When by letting 'em Win,

We have drawn the Putts in
To lose all they are worth this Campaign.

Tho' Bruges and Ghent,
To the Monsieur we lent,
With Interest he soon shall repay 'em ;
While Paris may Sing,

With her sorrowful King
De Profundis, instead of Te Deum.

From their Dream of Success,

They'll awaken we guess

At the sound of Great Marlborough's Drums;

They may think if they will

Of Almanza still,

But 'tis Blenheim wherever he comes.

O Lewis perplex'd,

What General's next?

Thou hast hitherto chang'd 'em in vain ;
He has beat 'em all round,

If no new ones are found,
He shall Beat the old over again.

We'll let Tallard out

If he'll take t'other bout;

And much he's improv'd let me tell ye,

With Nottingham Ale,

At every Meal,

And good Pudding and Beef in his Belly.