William McCarty, comp. The American National Song Book. 1842.
The Seven Naval VictoriesJ
That he’d settle accounts, in dispute long involved:
For John had found out by his books, it appears,
That Jonathan owed him a grudge for some years.
Derry down, &c.
Who imported the notions that Johnny could spare;
Whom he thought his best friend, until time had betray’d
He’d deceived him in orders, in counsel, and trade.
Derry down, &c.
His crest triple-plumed, his mouth foaming with ire;
He challenged his customer boldly to fight,
To prove by a combat his balance was right.
Derry down, &c.
He loved money well, but much better his life;
And John vainly thought he had not to do more
Than to kick and to cuff him as oft he’d before,
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His anger was kindled, his blood it did boil:
Quoth he, “Mr. Bull, I’ll soon make it appear
You have taken this time the wrong sow by the ear.”
Derry down, &c.
Whilst John on his skill and experience relied,
Poor Johnny, untutor’d, on bottom did rest,
He’d a strong Constitution—his pluck was the best.
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Till Jonathan closed with a furious press;
And, breaking one half of his ribs at a blow,
In forty-five minutes, John cried, “Stop, Hull-O!”
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His feelings were wounded, his spirits depress’d;
So, says he, “By the way of drowning all pain,
I’ll get drunk in a Frolic, and fight him again.”
Derry down, &c.
Raised Jonathan’s choler, and Jonathan’s feet;
Like a Wasp he flew at him, and, changing his tones,
John cried out peccavi to old Davy Jones.
Derry down, &c.
And gaining fresh courage from every fresh blow;
Macedonian madness, like Aleck the great,
Involved him in wars—in black eyes—broken pate.
Derry down, &c.
Had changed his retirement, his country and clime;
And in the United States was again met
By Jonathan, who drubb’d him into a sweat.
Derry down, &c.
In India’s fair climes sought for safety and peace;
But Jonathan chanced to go there in pursuit,
He met him in Java, and flogg’d him to boot.
Derry down, &c.
Who was too much his match in a rough fisty fight;
Resolved a few lessons to learn, ere ’twas late,
At Crib’s or at Molineux’s next royal bait.
Derry down, &c.
Had a bird which, for splendour, would rival the sun:
A bird which, he said, that, when pitted to fight,
Was as certain of conquest as valorous knight.
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But, the bird being silly, soon came to its end:
For, approaching too near to a dangerous nest,
A Hornet attacked and soon buzz’d him to rest.
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And priding himself on his muscles and heart;
Left home in the character, novel and rare,
Of a Boxer profess’d in the “art militaire.”
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The gauntlet was thrown, and they enter’d the lists,
For Jonathan’s Enterprise boldly defies
Broken ribs, bloody nose, or a pair of black eyes.
Derry down, &c.
John dealt his opponent a blow on the ear,
Which had well nigh proved fatal to Johnny, alack!
Had he not been supported by friends at his back.
Derry down, &c.
John was knock’d down in turn, and the dust made to bite,
Which decided, right quickly, the fate of the day,
For John cried “enough,” and was straight led away.
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And John, when recruited, requested a sup
Of cider or whisky, his strength to repair,
So Jonathan gave him the “juice of a pear.”
Derry down, &c.
Who, having quaff’d potently, till he was full,
In a style of importance turn’d round to his host,
And told him he’d take all his Perry at cost.
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He order’d the liquor—the jug did not flag;
And John got his dose of the exquisite stuff;
For the Perry o’ercame him—he cried “I’ve enough!”
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Says he, “Chance is against me, as well as my fate:
I’ve been seven times conquer’d, and now I at length
Think it time to walk off, to recover my strength.”
Derry down, &c.