The New Hampshire Gazette

From the Gentleman's Magazine.

A SONG.

Come all ye brave Britons, let no one complain,
Britannia, Britannia, once more rules the main.
With Bumpers o'erflowing we'll jovially join,
And tell the high deeds of the year Fifty Nine.

The negroes of Senegal know how we fought,
And the monsieurs of India what wonders we wrought:
But Minden, O Britain, that glory was thine,
There France learn'd a dance in the year fifty nine.

De la Clue with his Squadron so nimble and tight,
On meeting Boscawen, like a Frenchman, took fright:
But running too fast on some mighty shoal's reign,
He lost both his legs in the year fifty nine.

When Montcalm in Canada drew forth his men,
(Secure in his numbers) to fight on the plain,
With true British Spirit we broke ev'ry line,
And conquer'd Quebec in the year fifty nine.

Niagara, Crown Point, Ticonderoga too,
What cannot true Britons with courage subdue?
Such conquests so noble, so great, and so fine,
All add to the glory of the year fifty nine.

Whilst Rodney and Hawke watch'd the flat-bottom'd boats,
At Paris Belleisle cut poor Englishmens throats,
There Lewis with Pomp a drank Burgundy wine,
To drown in Oblivion the year fifty nine.

At last, like a thief, bully Conflans stole out,
Believe you, a Frenchman surprisingly stout;
The best man got foremost to lead off the line,
As none like to fight in the year fifty nine.

But soon overtaken with troubles so dire,
That, spite of Conflans, set the great Sun on fire,
He burnt, his land sunk 'em, and 'twas mighty fine.