6
Gruel remembrance! ah, who wilt thou wreck me,
Brooding o'er joys that for ever are flown,
Cruel remembrance! in pity forsake me,
Flee to some bosom where grief is unknown.
A PATRIOTIC SONG,
tune—Jonny Cofe.
My Brethren, now we're met again,
To show what spirit we maintain,
And that we ever are the same,
To meet the French in the morning,
Chorus.
Or are your boats all ready yet,;
Upon our shores, when ye think fit,
We'll meet ye in the morning.
Tho' many powers you have undone,
And nearly Europe over-run,
The reason's obvious as the sun,
They lay o'er lang in the morning.
Then Bonaparte, &c.
You're well aware it is the case,
Where'er you saw a British face,
You've found it to your sad disgrace,
That they should rise in the morning.
Then Bonaparte, &c.
