William McCarty, comp. The American National Song Book. 1842.
A Pleasant New Song: O! Johnny Bull is much perplexdO! J
And what d’ye think’s the matter?
Because the Yankee frigates sail
Across the salt sea water.
And all the sailor lads, too;
So pay us tax before you trade,
And part of each ship’s crew.”
“For sailing on the water?
Give you our lads of Yankee breed?
I’d sooner give you a halter.
Shall ever be my toast;
Let Johnny but this right invade,
And Johnny Bull I’ll roast.”
And kidnapp’d our true sailors;
And Jonathan resolved to play
The d——l among the whalers.
To cut up Johnny’s trade,
And long before the year was out
The squire grew sore afraid.
Belonging to John’s navy;
And some they took, and some they burnt,
And some sent to old Davy.
To see what she could do;
Her captain is from Yankee land,
And so are all her crew.
Down to the Gallipagos,
And toted all the terrapins,
And nabb’d the slippery whalers.
Why, down to the Marquesas;
And there we buried under ground
Some thousand golden pieces;
Sinking, burning, taking,
Filling pockets, spilling oil,
While Johnny’s heart was aching.
And fitted out three ships, sir:
The Phœbe, Cherub, and Raccoon,
To make the Yankees skip, sir.
Into the South Sea Ocean,
To catch the saucy Yankee ship
They had a mighty notion.
They fumbled all around;
“Why, where the d——l can she be,
That she cannot be found?”
They came in mighty funk;
The Yankee boys were then on shore,
Some sober, and some drunk.
And some were riding asses;
Some tippling grog, some swigging wine,
Some dancing with the lasses.
Each man unto his station;
And Johnny he came swaggering by,
But met some botheration.
With pistol, sword and gun,
In hopes John Bull would run on board
To have a bit of fun:
And soon came to an anchor,
And hoisted up a printed flag,
As big as our spanker.
Some swore ’twas Greek or German;
But Nathan Whiting spelt it out,
And said it was a sermon.
All side by side we lay,
Exchanging messages and songs
In Valparaiso bay.
And call’d us traitors all,
And swore he’d fight our gallant crew,
Paddies and Scots, and all.
Swearing, as sure as day,
He’d starve us all, or dare us out
Of Valparaiso bay.
As if he thought to fright us,
Run up his flag, and fired a gun,
To say that he would fight us.
And run down on her quarter;
But Johnny clapp’d his helm hard up,
And we went following after.
And many more beside,
“We wish those English boys had stay’d,
We’d show them how to ride.”
Soon bent his scurvy way,
While we return’d in merry glee,
To Valparaiso bay.
We’ll take no further trouble,
Since all the world must fairly know
They’ll only fight us—double.
“Free trade and sailors’ rights;”
May liquor never fail the lad
Who for his country fights.
And toast them as they run:
Here’s to the sailors and their king,
Who’ll fight us—two to one.