Cavaliers, up! Lips from the cup, (Chorus) Marching along, fifty-score strong, Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song. III. Hampden to hell, and his obsequies' knell. Serve Hazelrig, Fiennes, and young Harry as well! England, good cheer! Rupert is near! Kentish and loyalists, keep we not here (Chorus) Marching along, fifty-score strong, Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song? IV. Then, God for King Charles! Pym and his snarls Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song! 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? III. To whom used my boy George quaff else, III. BOOT AND SADDLE. I. Boot, saddle, to horse, and away! Rescue my castle before the hot day Brightens to blue from its silvery grey, (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, Who laughs, "Good fellows ere this, by my fay, (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, Just for a riband to stick in his coat- 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; Best fight on well, for we taught him-strike gallantly, "HOW THEY BROUGHT THE GOOD NEWS FROM GHENT TΟ ΑΙΧ." [16-.] I. I SPRANG to the stirrup, and Joris, and he; "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! |