The New Hampshire Gazette

An expeditious EPILOGUE, Spoken at the Return of the Grand Fleet.

BEHOLD! in Spite of Wind and Weather,
We've kept our noble Fleet together!
What's more, they're all in good Condition;
Oh! 'twas a glorious Expedition!
Plague rot the French, they're politick;
But Death and Oons we made them sick!
Sure never Fleet could ever boast
Of more Feats done, and less Men lost!
Two kill'd, that's all, and all that's true,
Rare News by Heav'n, only two!
Bravo, my English Hearts of Oak,
'Twas a noble, bold home Stroke!
The God's look'd down, lo! much admiring,
Our lucky thirty Minutes firing!
That great, important Island Aix,
Each Bougre, muttering, forsakes;
By Force of Arms we have subdu'd it,
'Tis a fine Place they say who've view'd it!
We took it, Sirs, without a Fable,
With all the Ease imaginable;
In great Distress we soon shall see'em,
'Tis our Turn now to sing Te Deum!
But hold--methinks it isn't good,
To holla till we're out o'th' Wood.
Now this is spoiling the Connection,
What then, the Thought requires Reflection!
Minorca's lot, phoo, never mind it,
One Day or other we will find it;
And we'll have Rochfort by and by,
As soon as that damn'd Ditch is dry!
In Moonlight Schemes there ne'er was Fortune
E'er since Pyramus went a courting.
We'll drop the Matter till next Spring,
And then, no Doubt, we do the Thing;
So holla Boys; God save the King!