(Published in The Scots Magazine, vol. 43 (1781), April, p. 215)
Whoever taught you first to fight, I like their mode, and think it right, But am convinc'd your better rules Were never learn'd in modern schools, Because your mind you cannot bring To what is call'd manoeuvring; But I can tell you for your comfort, Altho' you'll never shew your bum for't, Nor turn your back on certain glory, As H[owe] and K[eppe]l did before ye; Applauses due we ne'er shall pay, Unless you fight to run away. You sure must know, or else I'll teach ye, (Attend me here, Sir, I beseech ye), That none are prais'd our foes for banging, But only such as merit hanging; And therefore you are much to blame For thinking you'll acquire great fame; Because, when cowards make a fuss, True valour must be infamous. Fighting was once a British passion, But most things change, and so does fashion; Last war sky rockets pierc'd the skies, For foes distress'd, and victories; But now our windows blaze from far, To shew our foes triumphant are; Make a retreat, or make a fight on't, Our politicians will make light on't, Sir, if you wish for reputation, Do all you can to hurt the nation; Alarm your foes with fifes and drumming, And let them know that you are coming; The man is always prais'd who flies 'em, You'll sure be d[amn']d if you surprise 'em. Whether you fight on sea or dry land, Observe Sir William at Long island; Ne'er force their lines, nor think of beating, Nor e'er prevent them from retreating. From K[eppe]l prudent maxims borrow, And trim 'em handsomely -- to-morrow. Oppose your conscience and conviction, And men will praise for contradiction. But if you imitate the Swede*, Or fight pell-mell like Diomede, Pursue your foes, and never mind 'em, And rout 'em wheresoe'er you find 'em; For censure you'll afford a handle And will be curs'd, bell, book and candle. |
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