A Rueful Story, Admiral B — g’s Glory, or Who Run Away First
A New Ballad to the tune of John, Duke of Marlborough.
Give ear, ye sons of glory,
Of greater deeds I sing
Than e’er were recorded in story,
All done by great Admiral Byng.
Sing, sing, O rare Admiral Byng.
It was in the very same sea, sir,
His father’s fleet did swim:
His father fought well, we agree, sir,
But his father was nothing like him.
Sing, sing, O great Admiral Byng.
At first he came to Gibraltar,
Where he was [for] succours to call;
But wisely his orders did alter,
And took no succours at all.
Sing, sing, O wise Admiral Byng.
While Portmahon was invaded,
And Blakeney defended the fort,
In the sea for a while he paraded,
And then took a peep at the port.
Sing, sing, O bold Admiral Byng.
At length he descried the foe, sir,
Whom he bravely determined to beat,
If he cou’d without striking a blow, sir,
Or hurting his Majesty’s fleet.
Sing, sing, O brave Admiral Byng.
And when the engagement began, sir,
The admiral stuck to his plan;
For he fought without firing a gun, sir,
Or loosing a single man.
Sing, sing, O rare Admiral Byng.
West gallantly charg’d in the van, sir,
Without dismay or fear;
But Byng, who would not risk a man, sir,
Kept cautiously snug in the rear.
Sing, sing, great Rear-Admiral Byng.
At length the French run away, sir,
As Frenchmen are apt to do:
But he scorn’d to give them foul play, sir,
So he civilly run away too.
Sing, sing, generous Admiral Byng.
For behaving so well in the ocean,
At least he deserves well a string;
And if he wou’d sue for promotion,
I hope they will give him his swing.
Swing, swing, O rare Admiral Byng!