Page:Polly privateer (1).pdf/8

(8) Gae now get your guns in a clatter,

Your Emperor I ſtill wiſh to be.

But O how it angers me fairly,

That they winna gi'e me my will,

I think I cou'd conquer them fairly,

If it werna for auld Jonny Bull.

His ſiller and men did oppreſs me,

The time I was ſorting at Kings,

And now he ſeems yet to diſtreſs me,

And draws out his purſe by the ſtrings.

Wi' peace I thought ſurely to blink him,

Till I cou'd be better prepar'd,

And then I intended to clink him,

When he wou'd be aff o' his guard:

But a' my deep fetches are humbled,

That I a lang time had made,

And Blucher and Wellington fright me,

And make me to ſcratch at my head.

I dread that John Bull he will faſh us,

And Saunders he winna be ſlack,

The Coſſacks that ſadly did thraſh us,

I fear that they'll be at their back.

I ken they a' threaten to ſkelp me,

As ſure as my fam'd name is ,

But try what ye can for to help me,

For now they are a' on my tap.