Page:New song called, Bonaparte's comin', or, Rouse brother Britons.pdf/5

 O! Abraham Newland!

Wonderful Abraham Newland!

Tho' with compliments cramm'd, you may die out of hand,

If you hav'n't an Abraham Newland,

The world are inclin'd to think Juſtice is blind,

Yet Lawyers know well ſhe can view land;

But what of all that?—ſhe'll blink like a bat

At the ſight of a friend, Abraham Newland.

O! Abraham Newland!

Magical Abraham Newland!

Tho' Juſtice, 'tis known, can ſee thro'a mill-ſtone,

She can't ſee thro' Abraham Newland.

Your Patriots who bawl, for the good of us all,

And, good ſouls, like muſhrooms thay ſtrew land,

But tho' loud as a drum, each proves Orator Mum,

If attack'd by ſtout Abraham Newland.

O! Abraham Newland!

Invincible Abraham Newland.

No argument's found in the world half ſo ſound,

As the logic of Abraham Newland.

The French ſay they're coming, but ſurely they're humming:

We know what they want, if they do land:

But we'll make their ears ring in defence of our King,

Our country and Abraham Newland.

O! Abraham Newland!

Excellent Abraham Newland!

No tri-colour'd elf, nor the devil himſelf,

Shall rob us of Abraham Newland,