William McCarty, comp. The American National Song Book. 1842.
Parliament of EnglandY
Consider well what you’re about, and what you mean to do;
You’re now at war with Yankees: I’m sure you’ll rue the day
You roused the sons of Liberty in North America.
You then impress’d our seamen, and used them as slaves;
You then insulted Rodgers, while cruising on the main,
And had we not declared war, you’d done it o’er again.
Until bold Hull the Guerriere took, and banish’d her from sight.
The Wasp next took your Frolic—you nothing said to that:
The Poictiers being off the coast, of course you took her back.
Decatur took her gilt-work off, and then he took her in.
The Java by a Yankee ship was sunk, you all must know;
The Peacock, in all her pride, by Lawrence down did go.
We had an Enterprising brig, that beat the Boxer out;
Then boxed her up to Portland, and moor’d her off the town,
To show the sons of Liberty this Boxer of renown.
You own he beat your naval force, and caused them to run;
While Chauncey, on Ontario, the like ne’er known before,
Your British squadron beat complete—some took, some run ashore.
Until they turn’d the tomahawk, they savages became;
Your mean insinuations they despised from their souls,
And join’d the sons of Liberty, that scorn to be controll’d.
That e’er you’ll gain by British force your lost America;
Go tell your king and parliament, by all the world it’s known,
That British force, by sea and land’s by Yankees overthrown.
For Yankee ships are building fast, their navy to increase.
They will enforce their commerce: their laws by Heaven were made,
That Yankee ships, in time of peace, to any port might trade.
Give up all claims to Canada, then we’ll make peace again.
Then, England, we’ll respect you, and treat you as a friend;
Respect our flag and citizens, then all these wars will end.
The Congress, on the Brazil coast, your commerce will annoy.
The Essex, in the South Sea, will put out all your lights,
The flag she wears at mast-head, is “Free trade, and sailor’s rights.”