To General Dumourier. Parody On Robin Adair.

I.

    You're welcome to despots, Dumourier;
    You're welcome to despots, Dumourier;
            How does Dampiere do?
            Aye, and Bournonville, too?
    Why did they not come along with you, Dumourier?

II.

    I will fight France with you, Dumourier;
    I will fight France with you, Dumourier;
            I will fight France with you,
            I will take my chance with you;
    By my soul I'll dance a dance with you, Dumourier.

III.

    Then let us fight about, Dumourier;
    Then let us fight about, Dumourier;
            Then let us fight about,
            Till freedom's spark is out,
    Then we'll be damn'd, no doubt, Dumourier.

Robert Burns

Robert Burns, also known as Rabbie Burns, the Bard of Ayrshire, and various other names and epithets, was a Scottish poet and lyricist. He is widely regarded as the national poet of Scotland and is celebrated worldwide. Born on January 25, 1759, in Alloway, he is best known for works such as 'Auld Lang Syne,' 'Scots Wha Hae,' and 'A Red, Red Rose.' He passed away on July 21, 1796, in Dumfries.

Robert Burns

Of A' The Airts The Wind Can Blaw

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

Lady Onlie.

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

But Lately Seen.

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

Louis, What Reck I By Thee.

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

English

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Hervé Riel

Browning contributed the money he earned by this poem to the people of Paris suffering from the Franco-Prussian War. Hervé Riel appeared in the Cornhill Magazine for March, 1871, and the publisher, Mr. George Smith, paid one hundred pounds for the poem.


I
On the sea and at the Hogue, sixteen hundred ninety-two,
Did the English fight the French, woe to France!
And, the thirty-first of May, helter-skelter through the blue,
Like a crowd of frightened porpoises a shoal of sharks pursue,
Came crowding ship on ship to Saint Malo on the Rance,
With the English fleet in view.

II
Twas the squadron that escaped, with the victor in full chase;
First and foremost of the drove, in his great ship, Damfreville;
Close on him fled, great and small,
Twenty-two good ships ...

Robert Browning

An English Ballad, On The Taking Of Namur, By The King Of Great Britain

Dulce est desipere in loco.

I

Some Folks are drunk, yet do not know it:
So might not Bacchus give You Law?
Was it a Muse, O lofty Poet,
Or Virgin of St. Cyr, You saw?
Why all this Fury? What's the Matter,
That Oaks must come from Thrace to dance?
Must stupid Stocks be taught to flatter?
And is there no such Wood in France?
Why must the Winds all hold their Tongue?
If they a little Breath should raise;
Would that have spoil'd the Poet's Song;
Or puff'd away the Monarch's Praise?

II

Pindar, that Eagle, mounts the Skies;
While Virtue leads the noble Way:
Too like a Vultur Boileau flies,
Where sordid Interest shows the Prey.
When once the Poet's Honour ceases,
From Reason far his Transports rove:
And Boileau, for ei...

Matthew Prior

Béranger's "My Last Song Perhaps"

[JANUARY, 1814]


When, to despoil my native France,
With flaming torch and cruel sword
And boisterous drums her foeman comes,
I curse him and his vandal horde!
Yet, what avail accrues to her,
If we assume the garb of woe?
Let's merry be,--in laughter we
May rescue somewhat from the foe!

Ah, many a brave man trembles now.
I (coward!) show no sign of fear;
When Bacchus sends his blessing, friends,
I drown my panic in his cheer.
Come, gather round my humble board,
And let the sparkling wassail flow,--
Chuckling to think, the while you drink,
"This much we rescue from the foe!"

My creditors beset me so
And so environed my abode,
That I agreed, despite my need,
To settle up the debts I owed;
When suddenly there came t...

Eugene Field

Thomas Winterbottom Hance

In all the towns and cities fair
On Merry England's broad expanse,
No swordsman ever could compare
With THOMAS WINTERBOTTOM HANCE.

The dauntless lad could fairly hew
A silken handkerchief in twain,
Divide a leg of mutton too
And this without unwholesome strain.

On whole half-sheep, with cunning trick,
His sabre sometimes he'd employ
No bar of lead, however thick,
Had terrors for the stalwart boy.

At Dover daily he'd prepare
To hew and slash, behind, before
Which aggravated MONSIEUR PIERRE,
Who watched him from the Calais shore.

It caused good PIERRE to swear and dance,
The sight annoyed and vexed him so;
He was the bravest man in France
He said so, and he ought to know.

"Regardez donc, ce cochon gros
Ce po...

William Schwenck Gilbert

The Little Piou-piou

* The French "Tommy".



Oh, some of us lolled in the chateau,
And some of us slinked in the slum;
But now we are here with a song and a cheer
To serve at the sign of the drum.
They put us in trousers of scarlet,
In big sloppy ulsters of blue;
In boots that are flat, a box of a hat,
And they call us the little piou-piou,
        Piou-piou,
The laughing and quaffing piou-piou,
The swinging and singing piou-piou;
And so with a rattle we march to the battle,
The weary but cheery piou-piou.

    Encore un petit verre de vin,
    Pour nous mettre en route;
    Encore un petit verre de vin
    Pour nous mettre en train.

They drive us head-on for the slaughter;
We haven't got much of a chance;
The issue looks bad, ...

Robert William Service

Arms And The Man. - Welcome To France.

But, in that fiery zone
She upriseth not alone,
Over all the bloody fields
Glitter Amazonian shields;
While through the mists of years
Another form appears,
And as I bow my head
Already you have said: -
    'Tis France!

Welcome to France!
From sea to sea,
With heart and hand!
Welcome to all within the land -
Thrice welcome let her be!

And to France
The Union here to-day
Gives the right of this array,
And folds her to her breast
As the friend that she loves best.
Yes to France.
The proud Ruler of the West
Bows her sun-illumined crest,
Grave and slow,
In a passion of fond memories of
One hundred years ago!

France's colors wave again
High above this tented plain,
Stream and flaunt, and blaze...

James Barron Hope