Songs, comic, and satyrical: By George Alexander Stevens.
Stevens, George Alexander, 1710-1784.


Tune,—Derry down.
OLD Homer! but with him what have we to do?
What are Grecians, or Trojans, to me or to you?
Such Heathenish Heroes no more I'll invoke,
Choice Spirits assist me, attend Hearts of Oak.
Derry down.
Sweet Peace, belov'd handmaid of Science and Art,
Unanimity, take your Petitioner's part;
Accept of my Song, 'tis the best I can do—
But first, may it please ye—my service to you.
Page  130III.
Perhaps my Address you may premature think,
Because I have mention'd no Toast as I drink;
There are many fine Toasts, but the best of 'em all
Is the Toast of the Times; that is Liberty-Hall.
That fine British building by Alfred was fram'd,
Its grand corner-stone Magna-Charta is nam'd;
Independency came at Integrity's call,
And form'd the front pillars of Liberty-Hall.
This Manor our forefathers bought with their blood,
And their sons, and their sons sons, have prov'd the deeds good;
By that title we live, with that title we'll fall,
For Life is not Life out of Liberty-Hall.
In mantle of honour, each star spangled fold,
Playing bright in the sun-shine, the burnish of gold,
Truth beams on her breast; see, at Loyalty's call,
The Genius of England in Liberty-Hall.
Ye sweet smelling Courtlings of ribband and lace,
The spaniels of Power, and Bounty's disgrace,
So supple, so servile, so passive ye fall,
'Twas Passive-obedience lost Liberty-Hall.
But when Revolution had settl'd the crown,
And Natural Reason knock'd Tyranny down,
No frowns cloath'd with Terror appear'd to appall,
The doors were thrown open of Liberty-Hall.
Page  131IX.
See England triumphant, her ships sweep the sea,
Her standard is Justice, her watch word be free;
Our King is our Countryman, Englishmen all,
GOD BLESS HIM, and bless us, in Liberty-Hall.
On vere is des All—Monsieur wants to know,
'Tis neither at Marli, Versailles, Fontainbleau:
'Tis a palace of no mortal architect's art,
Derry down.