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CAVALIER TUNES
I. MARCHING ALONG
Kentish Sir Byng stood for his King, 1 Bidding the crop-headed Parliament swing: 2 And, pressing a troop unable to stoop And see the rogues flourish and honest folk droop, Marched them along, fifty score strong, Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song.
G.o.d for King Charles! Pym and such carles 7 To the Devil that prompts 'em their treasonous parles!
Cavaliers, up! Lips from the cup, Hands from the pasty, nor bite take nor sup 10 Till you're--
CHORUS.--Marching along, fifty score strong, Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song.
Hampden to h.e.l.l, and his obsequies knell. 14 Serve Hazelrig, Fiennes, and young Harry as well! 15 England, good cheer! Rupert is near! 16 Kentish and loyalists, keep we not here,
CHO.--Marching along, fifty score strong, Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song.
Then, G.o.d for King Charles! Pym and his snarls 20 To the Devil that p.r.i.c.ks on such pestilent carles!
Hold by the right, you double your might; So, onward to Nottingham, fresh for the fight, 23
CHO.--March we along, fifty score strong, Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song!
II. GIVE A ROUSE
I
King Charles, and who'll do him right now?
King Charles, and who's ripe for fight now?
Give a rouse; here's, in h.e.l.l's despite now, King Charles!
II
Who gave me the goods that went since?
Who raised me the house that sank once?
Who helped me to gold I spent since?
Who found me in wine you drank once?
CHO.--King Charles, and who'll do him right now?
King Charles, and who's ripe for fight now? 10 Give a rouse; here's, in h.e.l.l's despite now, King Charles!
III
To whom used my boy George quaff else, By the old fool's side that begot him?
For whom did he cheer and laugh else, While Noll's d.a.m.ned troopers shot him? 16
CHO.--King Charles, and who'll do him right now?
King Charles, and who's ripe for fight now?
Give a rouse: here's, in h.e.l.l's despite now, King Charles! 20
III. BOOT AND SADDLE
I
Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!
Rescue my castle before the hot day Brightens to blue from its silvery gray,
CHO.--Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!
II
Ride past the suburbs, asleep as you'd say; Many's the friend there, will listen and pray "G.o.d's luck to gallants that strike up the lay--
CHO.--Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!"
III
Forty miles off, like a roebuck at bay, Flouts castle Brancepeth the Roundheads' array: 10 Who laughs, "Good fellows ere this, by my fay,
CHO.--Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!"
IV
Who? My wife Gertrude; that, honest and gay, Laughs when you talk of surrendering, "Nay!
I've better counsellors; what counsel they?
CHO.-- Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!"
HOME-THOUGHTS, FROM THE SEA
n.o.bly, n.o.bly, Cape Saint Vincent to the Northwest died away; Sunset ran, one glorious blood-red, reeking into Cadiz Bay; Bluish 'mid the burning water, full in face Trafalgar lay; 3
In the dimmest Northeast distance dawned Gibraltar grand and gray; 4 "Here and here did England help me: how can I help England?"--say, Whoso turns as I, this evening, turn to G.o.d and pray, While Jove's planet rises yonder, silent over Africa.
