Page:Four songs (2).pdf/6

6 When the British lion shook his main

At the battle of Vittoria,

Let blustering crack,

Let Joseph run the coward's track,

Let Jourdon wish his back,

He left at Vittoria.

If e’er they meet their worthy King,

Let them round him in a ring,

And such Scotch piper play the tune 

He slew them at Vittoria.

Loud was the battle's stormy swell,

When thousands fought and many fell,

Glasgow heroes bore the hell

At the battle of Vittoria.

The  rose was ne’er so red.

The wav'd whar  led,

And the Scottish thistle head

upon Vittoria,

to the spirits of the brave.

May I their trophies o’er them wave,

And green be o’er Cadogan’s grave.

Who fell at Vittoria.

Shout on my boys, your glasses drain,

Fill up a bumper, up again,

Pledge to the leading star of Spain,

The Hero of Vittoria.

Bonapante's Rout; or, the l8th of June.

YE people at home, who live easy,

And free from the horrors of war,