# A New Song.
## ROYAL CAROLINE.
Tune, — Soldiers Gratitude.

Catnach, Printer, 2, Monmouth-court.—Cards, Bibs, &c. Cheap and Neatly Printed.

YE wives of Britain's Isle resent
The suffrings of our Queen,
Such base indignities till now
Our eyes have never seen.
Her Father was a Brunswick brave,
Her Mother, British born.
The sister of good George the Third,
Who did his Crown adopt:

This lovely Princess Caroline
Came o'er the ocean wide.

Espous'd to England's royal heir,
A charming blooming bride.

No happiness has crown'd her days,
Since she became a wife,

Her only child torn from her arms,
Sole comfort of her life.

For soon, alas, she treated was,
With cold neglect and scorn,
And driven from her lawful home
Where her dear Babe was born.

By perjuries and falsifications base,
They strove to take her life.

Her innocence a triumph gain'd
O'er Douglass and his wife.

Still persecution follow'd her,
And drove her from our Isle,

An unprotected Wanderer
A sorrowing exile.

Now she returns her rights to claim,
And share the British throne,

Her enemies renew their spite
To bat her from the Crown.

Attend ye virtuous British wives,
Support your injured Queen,

Assess her rights—they are your own
As plainly may be seen.

Could you sustain the injuries,
Your Queen has wrongs to redress.

# THE BRITISH SEAMEN
## And their Beloved QUEEN.

Catnach, Printer, 2, Monmouth court, 7 Dial.

COME cheer up my Lads 'tis to glory we steer
To add something new to this wonderful year
When our Queen's foes are rising on every side,
Honest hearts should advance to stop villany's tide

### CHORUS.

Heart of oak is our Queen—British Tars are their
Undaunted and steady—
For Carolina we're ready

To fight and to conquer again and again.

Let Italians invade us, they shall't run her down
A broadside will crush them and give her a Crown
We'll crush all her enemies both masters & slaves,
And give them a birth under ocean's blue waves.

In the cause of the Queen, from the Pool to the
Nore, (shore :
Each ship, rig, and sleep, pour'd her seamen on
One heart and one soul impell'd all to the scene
To offer their bosoms a shield for their Queen.

The sound of acclaim reach'd to Saint James's
place. (race,
That the Tars of Old England, that unconquered
In spite of the threats from corruptions dark den
to their Queen gave the hearts of 10,000 brave men

From Jonny-Groats house unto Cornwall's Land
Addresses of love her belov'd subjects send,
And weigh anchor her foes, when we next come on shore
We'll tip you a dressing you'll ever deplore.

Our arms they are thousands, our bosoms are one
Our hearts they are free, & our Queen is our own,
Our anchor is fixed, whence it never can start,
On a soil unpolluted—our Queen's honest heart.

Then God bless the Queen be each jolly Tars
And blest be the house she stept on our coast,
Her name and her virtues for ever shall stand,
Supreme on the ocean unconquered by Land.