Hey, great Duke, are you waking yet? Have you heard your dead drum beating yet? Tho' going to Heaven, we a' wad wait To see you hanged some morning. The Pats are kicking up a row The Scotsman says, "What's a' this now?" John Bull cries, "I'll not bear't, I vow - I'll hang him up some morning." Make ready, Wellington, in haste To lose your head or be displaced, As all your mercy we did taste When we sought reform yon morning. So, Wellesly, are you waking yet? Our hearts are no just quaking yet. Although our blood you thought to get By Russian force some morning. We know you are a coward too, Though bless'd wi' luck at Waterloo; Brave Marshall Neay you basely slew, For fear o' him some morning. And look not to the folk of France, For on a string they wad gar you dance - On every side you ha'e nae chance - Morblieu! for you this morning. You thought you wad us a' defy, Wi' foreign troops and threatnings high; But each true Briton wad rather die Than yield their rights ony morning. How can you gain a soldier's heart? Beneath the lash you made them smart, Hung them before great Buonaparte, For a' sma' faut ony morning.
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Embro, Embro Copyright © 2001, Jack Campin