  Like the wolves of the forest, ferocious and keen, The French our blest shores may invade! But in arms are the Gotham Invincibles seen, And who’s of invasion afraid? With ardour heroic each bosom inflames, No dangers impress them with awe; And merry they seem, when thus——exclaims,— “Kiver awa’, Kiver awa’, Kiver awa’.” Ye matrons be cheerful, ye virgins be gay, Your protectors are valiant and true: No more feel alarm’d, as your charms you survey, At what Frenchmen may venture to do; No danger shall reach you, no impudent Gaul, Shall fill your soft bosoms with awe; Whilst in tones energetic, thus —— can bawl,— “Kiver awa’, Kiver awa’, Kiver awa”. No more let the wight, to misfortune a prey, For relief to the bottle apply; But to chace ev’ry painful remembrance away, To Parade let him instantly hie; There ——, whilst ardently toiling for fame, Each thorn from his bosom shall draw: Ah! who can be sad, when they hear him exclaim,— “Kiver awa’, Kiver awa’, Kiver awa’.” Heav’n prosper thee, Gotham! thou famous old town, Of the Tyne the chief glory and pride: May thy heroes acquire immortal renown, In the dread field of Mars, when they’re try’d: Amongst them, O ne’er may flincher be found; And that mirth they from duty may draw, Long, long, through their ranks may these accents resound,— “Kiver awa’, Kiver awa’, Kiver awa’.” November, 1804. |
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