I.

A fact suggesting to the ear,

The ballad of the "Soldier's Tear."

Upon the cheese he sat,

Watching with eager look,
The Albert and Victoria yacht
Nearing the harbour's nook.
He raised a cheering shout,
To reach the royal ear;
But finding it was not returned,
He took a draught of beer.

11.

Upon the quarter-deck

The Queen reclined at ease;
Her snowy pocket-handkerchief
Was fluttering in the breeze.
Prince Albert, rather queer,

Hung o'er the vessel's side;
And oft he longed in vain for bier,
For he wished he could have died.

In sight the royal squadron comes,

And Tréport's trumpets, fifes, and drums,
Which have for many a day been mute,
Prepare to sound the glad salute;
Playing so ill" God save the Queen,"
'Tis hard to say what tune they mean:
So out of time the fifers blow it,

An Englishman would never know it.

The drummers, with terrific thumps,

Chime in by fits, and starts, and jumps;

Beat time-they do, indeed; and floor it!

By getting very far before it.

The rusty cannon, out of use,

A roar refuses to produce.

The Queen draws near; they try t' astound her,

By letting off an old four-pounder.

The ammunition they had got,

Was half-a-dozen pound of shot;

While, that the firing might be louder,

They had a barrel in of powder.