A Tippling Ballad

  a tippling ballad
  on the duke of brunswick's breaking up his camp, and the defeat of the austrians, by dumourier, november 1792.
  when princes and prelates,
  and hot-headed zealots,
  a'europe had set in a low, a low,
  the poor man lies down,
  nor envies a crown,
  and comforts himself as he dow, as he dow,
  and comforts himself as he dow.
  the black-headed eagle,
  as keen as a beagle,
  he hunted o'er height and o'er howe,
  in the braes o' gemappe,
  he fell in a trap,
  e'en let him come out as he dow, dow, dow,
  e'en let him come out as he dow.
  but truce with commotions,
  and new-fangled notions,
  a bumper, i trust you'll allow;
  here's george our good king,
  and charlotte his queen,
  and lang may they ring as they dow, dow, dow,
  and lang may they ring as they dow.

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