Cavaliers, up! Lips from the cup, (Chorus) Marching along, fifty-score strong, III. Hampden to hell, and his obsequies' knell. IV. Then, God for King Charles! Pym and his snarls II. GIVE A ROUSE. I. King Charles, and who'll do him right now? II. Who gave me the goods that went since? Who helped me to gold I spent since? (Chorus) King Charles, and who'll do him right now? King Charles, and who's ripe for fight now? Give a rouse: here's, in hell's despite now, III. To whom used my boy George quaff else, (Chorus) King Charles, and who'll do him right now ? III. BOOT AND SADDLE. I. Boot, saddle, to horse, and away! Rescue my castle before the hot day (Chorus) Boot, saddle, to horse, and away! II. Ride past the suburbs, asleep as you'd say; (Chorus) "Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!" III. Forty miles off, like a roebuck at bay, (Chorus) "Boot, saddle, to horse, and away?" IV. Who? My wife Gertrude; that, honest and gay, (Chorus) "Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!" THE LOST LEADER. I. JUST for a handful of silver he left us, Rags were they purple, his heart had been proud! We that had loved him so, followed him, honoured him, Lived in his mild and magnificent eye, Learned his great language, caught his clear accents, Made him our pattern to live and to die! Shakespeare was of us, Milton was for us, Burns, Shelley, were with us, they watch from their graves! He alone breaks from the van and the freemen, II. We shall march prospering,-not thro' his presence; One wrong more to man, one more insult to God! Life's night begins: let him never come back to us! There would be doubt, hesitation and pain, Forced praise on our part-the glimmer of twilight, Never glad confident morning again! Best fight on well, for we taught him-strike gallantly, Menace our heart ere we master his own; Then let him receive the new knowledge and wait us, Pardoned in heaven, the first by the throne! "HOW THEY BROUGHT THE GOOD NEWS FROM GHENT TO AIX." [16—.] I. I SPRANG to the stirrup, and Joris, and he; I galloped, Dirck galloped, we galloped all three; "Good speed!" cried the watch, as the gate-bolts undrew; "Speed!" echoed the wall to us galloping through; Behind shut the postern, the lights sank to rest, II. Not a word to each other; we kept the great pace Neck by neck, stride by stride, never changing our place; I turned in my saddle and made its girths tight, III. 'T was moonset at starting; but while we drew near chime, So, Joris broke silence with, "Yet there is time!" IV. At Aerschot, up leaped of a sudden the sun, V. And his low head and crest, just one sharp ear bent back For my voice, and the other pricked out on his track; And one eye's black intelligence,-ever that glance O'er its white edge at me, his own master, askance! |