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ouſe up Britons! rouſe! here's danger,

Frenchmen dare invade our coaſts;

To fight and conquer---you're no ſtrangers,

ſoon we'll came their haughty boaſts.

Awaken. Britons! Frenchmen threaten

to ſubdue our peaceful life:

To arms! to arms! let them be beaten,

in front, in rear, each rank and file.

Rouſe up, Britons! rouſe! here's, &c.

Our King is wife, and well ſupported,

has men and money in his hand;

His Generals are well eſcorted

his fleets at ſea bear ſole command. &c.

Our cavalry are ſtout and healthy,

our Regulars, there's none ſo brave;

Oar Fenciblés are young and wealthy,

and like the f'rain, none can behave. &c.

Field Marſhal York, Great Britain's glory,

where's the man will ſit his call?

I'm ſure he's neither Whig nor Tory,

to's country he's but a Raſcal. Rouſe, &c.

Awake, millions! York will lead you,

ſhould Frenchmen dare to croſs the main;

And Britain's Daughters they will feed you,

'till Frenchmen be by Britons ſlain. &c.