S o ld b y H O W A R D A N D E V A N S ,(Printers to the Cheap Repository for Moral and Religo us T r a c ts )

No. 4 1 , and 42, L o ng - L a n e , W e s t - S m i t h f i e l d , a n dJ . H A T C H A R D , No. 190, P i c c a d i l l y , London. By S. HA Z A R D

B a t h . A n d b y all Booksellers, Newsmen, and Hawkers, in T o w n and Country.

* * * Great Allowance will be made to Shopkeepers and Hawker.

P R IC E O N E P E N N Y , Or 6s. per. Hundred.

E n tered at S tationers H all.

T H E

L O Y A L S A I L O R ,OR, NO MUTINEERING,

B E I N G A

SONG F IT TO B E SUNG ON BOARD OF A L LHIS M A JE S T Y ’S SHIPS,

G i v in g an account o f the late very aw k a rd affair at P o rtsm o u th , with t Increase o f Pay t h e n agreed to on a l l sides, by a sailor supposed to be board ; and also of that m ost m elan ch oly and dreadful m utin y w h ich ha­pened afterwards at the N o re , and which c a u ſed so m u ch a ſto n iſhm e th rou gh ou t this Loyal Nation : In w h ich fong it is further represented h T h is honest sailor w as giving away h a l f h is R a tio n to his w ife N ell, and w also prom ising. Part o f his pay t o h e r and t he C h ild ren , when a ftran F leet have in f i g h t and he instantly prepared for A ction .

THE

LOYAL SAILOR,& c. &c.

YE Britons brave.W ho ride the wave,

And make the cannon rattle, W hen winds do roar,W ho quit the shore,

T o fight your country’s battle ! I'll sing you now,If you’ll allow,

A song well worth your bearing, And we’ll agree,Each end shall be,

Beware of Mutineering.Now should perchance, The sons of France,

Those chaps we deem so skittish, By day or night,Come forth to fight,

Us seamen all so British,Oh ! how we’ll fly,T o fight or die,

No French or Dutchmen fearing, And while we sing,God save the King,

Beware of Mutineering.

Y et though we rush,Our foe to crush,

W e ’re not like brutish cattle ;Our duty’s clear,Hence, freed from fear,

W e ’ll trust the God of Battle :*Tis for our laws,And country’s cause.

The thought, my lads, is cheering ; ’Tis for our King,W e'll fight and sing,

Down, down, with Mutineering.

About some pay,I ’ll grant one day,

O ur fleet did grow loquacious ; W hat then befel,Me thinks I’ll tell,

’Twill prove our King so gracious, ’Twill prove beside,Though some may chide,

And think perhaps of sneering ; Y et on the whole,I from my soul,

Do hate your Mutineering.

'Twas on one night, 'T w ix t dark and light,

When some, you see, were drinking, All down below,While none did know,

I spy’d some fellows Cinking :Then up came Jack,And slapt my back,

(The thump it seem’d endearing)And dropt a word,T h at scarce was heard ;

C ou ld this be Mutineering ?

( 4 )

But next of pay,He talk’d away,

And hop’d we’d be united !I hung my head,A nd merely said,

I wished the thing was righted. Come, come, said he,Since all agree,

W e ’ll claim an instant hearing.I ’d like, says, I,T o share your pie,

But hate your Mutineering ;--

Our noble crew,W e r e good and true,

Y et now they fell a prating ;And though so mild,They all turned wild,

And got to delegating,Now here again,I told the men,

Be careful how you’re steering ; A vast: I said,Y o u ’ll risk your head,

Beware of Mutineering.

W ell next you see,They did agree,

T o tell their whole condition. The King he sent,T o parliament,

W ho granted our petition ;’Twas promised then,By all our men,

( ’Twas done within my hearing,) W e ’d ask no more,But shut the door,

Against your Mutineering.

( 5 )

The time wou’d fail,T o tell the tale,

O f all that follow’d after ;In part I ’m clear,’Twould fetch a tear,

In part ’ twould raise your laughter ; For in the close,Rebellion rose,

Her dreadful forehead rearing;And Oh ! how queer,Did things appear,

Amidst the Mutineering!

Some rais’d to power,W ere flog’d next hour,

All which was vastly funny;And some, they say,T o mend their pay,

Subscribed away their money.Then round the Nore,T o guard the shore,

W hat crouds came Volunteering ? For like one Man,The nation ran,

T o crush the Mutineering.

Out burst the flame,T o blows they came,

W hat prospect could be darker !‘ King George I say,H uzza ! huzza !

King George and no King Parker !' Come take your stand,Foul treason’s plann’d,

Come, come, Sir, don’t be reering. See here’s the try’dOld English side,

And there’s the Mutineering.

( 6 )

( 7 )

Fire, fire’s the cry ;They fall they die ;

The mutineers are routed ;Some lose their head,Some beg their bread,

By all the Nation scouted :*Some fly to France,

W h o l ed the dance,W hich prov’d a happy clearing,

And for their pains,Are clapt in chains,

T o cure their Mutineering.

Now let us sing,T o George our King,Here' s health to all the Nation ;

And let each wife,Now take her Knife,

And share her husband’s ration, With you each day,W e ’ll part our pay,

O ur children while you’re rearing; B ut mind you, Nell,Now don’t rebel,

Beware of Mutineering.

But while I tell,Of gentle Nell,

And all that frightful faction,--. A fleet !—a fleet !—

O now we meet,M y lads prepare for action ;

Let every Ship,Her cables Slip,

And while the Decks are clearing, Sing, Britons, sing,God save the King !

Down, down, with Mutineering .’—

T H E F O L L O W I N G

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