As we approach St George’s Day a splendid piece of patriotic verse suggested by Zack Stiling to enjoy by English dramatist and songwriter Thomas Dibdin, called The Snug Little Island.
Daddy Neptune, one day, to Freedom did say,
“If ever I lived upon dry land,
The spot I should hit on would be little Britain!”
Says Freedom, “Why that’s my own little Island!”
O, it’s a snug little Island!
A right little, tight little Island!
Search the globe round, none can be found!
So happy as this little Island.
Julius Caesar the Roman, who yielded to no man,
Came by water—he couldn’t come by land;
And Dane, Pict and Saxon, their homes turned their backs on
And all for the sake of our Island.
O, what a snug little Island!
They’d all have a touch at the Island!
Some were shot dead, some of them fled,
And some stayed to live on the Island.
Then a very great war-man, called Billy the Norman,
Cried, “Damn it, I never liked my land.
It would be much more handy to leave this Normandy,
And live on your beautiful Island.”
Says he, “‘Tis a snug little Island;
Shan’t we go visit the Island?”
Hop, skip and jump, there he was plump,
And he kick’d up a dust in the Island.
But party deceit helped the Normans to beat;
Of traitors they managed to buy land;
By Dane, Saxon or Pict, Britons ne’er had been lick’d,
Had they stuck to the King of their Island.
Poor Harold the King of the Island!
He lost both his life and the Island.
That’s all very true: what more could he do?
Like a Briton he died for his Island.
The Spanish Armada set out to invade-a,
‘Twill sure if they ever come nigh land.
They couldn’t do less than tuck up Queen Bess,
And take their full swing on the Island.
O, the poor Queen of the Island!
The Dons came to plunder the Island.
But snug in her hive, the Queen was alive,
And “buzz” was the word in the Island.
Those proud puff’d-up cakes thought to make ducks and drakes
Of our wealth; but they hardly could spy land
When our Drake had the luck to make their pride duck
And stoop to the lads of the Island!
Huzza for the lads of the Island!
The good wooden walls of the Island;
Devil or Don, let them come on,
But see how they’d come at the Island.
Since Freedom and Neptune have hitherto kept tune,
In each saying, “This shall be my land”;
Should the “Army of England,” or all it could bring, land,
We’d show ’em some play for the Island.
We’d fight for our right to the Island.
We’d give them enough of the Island;
Invaders should just—bite at the dust,
But not a bit more of the Island.
A bonus verse called Reasons for Drinking by Henry Aldrich. If you enjoy, or just want to know more, come along and join us for our Third Wednesday drinks.
If all be true that I do think,
There are five reasons why we should drink;
Good wine—a friend—or being dry—
Or lest we should be by and by—
Or any other reason why.
