rous Britons may be juftified in a fhort flight up the country, in order to rally.

2. While our men are thus retiring in diforder, let our women fhew no confufion, but a good front, as modern difcipline enables them to do; by which many temporary advantages may be gained, by oppofing the tactics of French gallantry to thofe of Gallic dif cipline.

3. Care fhould be taken to leave all the forage and water on the coaft, as the fureft mode of breaking the wind of their horfes, and rendering them incapable of drawing their heavy artillery.

;

The fame precaution fhould be had, as to live ftock, by leaving all the fatteft catile fnug in the marshes and indeed if plenty of beef, ready roafted, could be left on the fhore, with a fufficiency of new-baked bread, and fugar-brewed beer, a temporary inaction of the enemy might reasonably be looked for, as the confequence of appetites voraciously fatiated.

If thefe obfervations, Mr. Editor, are received with due refpect, you will speedify hear again from

August 1

Yours, &c.

AN OLD SOLDIER,

1

THE DEVOTED AND VICTORIOUS BRITISH

SOLDIER.

A NEW SONG.

TO battle let defpots compel the poor flave,

His country for him has no charms;

But the voice of fair Freedom is heard by the brave,
And calls her own Britons to arms.

Our country and King may triumphantly rest,
Encircled by loyalty s bauds;

For the fpirit of liberty glows in each breaft,
And her fword fhall ne'er drop from our hands.

How

How glorious to fall in youth's manly bloom,
For Britain life's joys to refign,

The voice of bright Fame will be heard from our tomb,
And our names be inroll'd in her shrine.

Raife the fong to the heroes of Britain's proud ifle,
While in ftrains of exultance we tell

How the foldier's lov'd Chief, by the blood-streaming Nile,
Triumphantly conquer'd and fell.

'Then, Britons, ftrike home-to the French on our fhore Their Invincible standard display,

By Moira array'd-on their vain legions pour,
And rival fam'd Aboukir's day.

While proudly the banners of victory wave,
The foldier exultingly dies;

The trophies of glory thine over his grave,
And his fpirit afcends to the skies.

CHIEF

ODE TO BONAPARTÉ,

HIEF Conful! Hero of Marengo!
Are you gone mad, or drunk with ftingo;
That, faine and fortune quitting,

Nothing will ferve your Highnefs now,
But fierce invafion (fie! you -ow-
ard) of poor little Britain?

Your victory at Algefiras,

Where Saumarez in such liot fire was,
I tell you, without flatt'ry,

Was gain'd-deny it if you can-
Not by your fleet, but-(O you Han-
nibal!) a Spanish batt'ry.

Indeed, great Monfieur Bonaparté,
One can't refrain from laughing hearty,
To hear the pompous ftory

Of this exploit that you advance,
Boafting how it has cover'd France-
's name with glory!

But

But when you read in our Gazette,
The drubbing poór Linois did get

From Saumarez foon after;

I think, my little Corfican,

'T will cool your courage, check your van-
ity, and ftop your laughter.

If you intend to keep your throne,
Now let invading us alone--

'Tis dangerous and evil;

Remember-gun-boats may be funk-
Remember Nelfon; whether drunk
Or fober-he's the devil!

Dromore, Aug. 7, 1801.

HAFIZ.

ODE

ON THE LATE NAVAL ENGAGEMENT IN THE BAY OF
ALGESIRAS, IN WHICH THE FRENCH NAVY
WAS COVERED WITH GLORY!!!

THE

[From the Morning Post.]

HE Mufe has heard the wondrous story
That cover'd Gailia's flag with glory;

The din of bells and theatres

Has deafen'd all the Mnfe's ears; .
Hark! how their long infulted fhore,
And longer filenc'd cannons roar.
From port to port applaufes fwell the note,
And fhip to thip refounds-ay! boat to boat!

Rehearse, oh! Mufe, the mighty tale!
Why looks each British tar fo pale?
Ah! from his mouth why drops the quid?
His thumb forget the pliant lid?

Why, rivetted as in a trance,

Survey the block'd-up ports of France?

And as the flames of bonfires gild the skies,

Tears, that might launch a fleet, flow trickling from his eyes?

Oh! fad difafter!-Lift, brave tar,

And, thund'ring cannons, ceafe your jar;

VOL. V.

Y

Ye

Ye bards, no more exalt your style,
To tell the wonders of the Nile;
Forget the paffing of the Sound,

Or hips that conquer'd, though aground:
Far nobler prowefs waits your heav'nly fire-
Yours, did I fay?—I mean the Gallic lyre!
Though shelter'd in a Spanish bay,
Thy hips, oh France! unfhelter'd lay;
In vain the open main they fhun,
In vain to forts or batt'ries run;
Nor forts nor batt'ries can appal,
Destructive fhells nor furnac'd ball:
No fears the breaft of Albion's fons invade,
These for her foes alone, and her defence were made.

Ah! what avails the Spanish arm,

Or friendly interpofing calmi?"
The tars of Albion still deride
The world and elements allied;
And their difmafted fquadron too
No longer now had been a foe:
No more eflay'd its deftin'd course to fhape,
Nor dar'd again with glory!-to escape.

But what a fatal accident
Has Albion's navy to lment,

When leaft fhe fear'd the routed foe;
To ftumble on a fiend-below:
Her hearts of oak-her very foul
Encounter'd by a Spanish thoal-

An Englifh fhip aground-Let Frenchmen fcoff,
While bards in wouder tell-how Linois got her off!!!

But, oh! what strains can equal deeds
So great! that e'en the laurell'd weeds
Would blufh upon the victor's brow;

The victors!-they 're the French, I trow?

The glory only do they claim?

We envy not the empty name :

Proud in her heroes, Britain claims their birth,

And estimates her glory by their worth.

Banks of the Thames, Ag. 15,

I

J. MELLING.

FRANCE

FRANCE COVERED WITH GLORY:

BEING A FAITHFUL NARRATIVE, TAKEN FROM THE REPORT OF THE gallant ADMIRAL

LINOIS.

[From the True Briton.]

GOOD people all I pray attend
A moft furprising ftory;

'Tis of an action on the main
That cover'd France with glory.

'T was on the ninth day of July,
From Cadiz poft away

Six fail o' th' line, and frigates three,
To Algefiras Bay.

For kept by th' English in blockade,
The mighty Linois lay,

With five large fhips, a frigate too,
In Algefiras Bay,

Thefe to relieve Moreno came,
Not to engage in fight,
But to the port of Cadiz straight
With them combine in flight.

A fresh east wind rofe on the twelfth;
The French and Spaniards go,
For Cadiz fwift they fail, and take
The Hannibal in tow.

Now this fame eastward gale, alas!
Brought on the English fleet,
Who seem to wish for nothing more
Than enemies to meet.

Five fail o' th' line the English had,
A frigate and a brig,

They came as if they did not care

For France and Spain a fig.

The night came on, and France and Spain
Were very much in fear,

As ftronger blew the eastern breeze,
More English might appear.

Y 2

Hence