Gosport – A Ballad


Henry Man 1747-1799. He was deputy-secretary of the South Sea House, Threadneedle Street, London and colleague of Charles Lamb. He contributed essays to The Morning Chronicle; his works were collected and posthumously published in 1802 in two volumes.


THE MISCELLANEOUS WORKS,
IN VERSE AND PROSE,
OF THE LATE HENRY MAN.
IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOLUME I.
LONDON:
PRINTED BY AND TOR JOHN NICHOLS AND SON,
RED LION PASSAGE, FLEET STREET;
SOLD ALSO BY T. AND C. RIVINGTON,
ST. PAUL’S CHURCH YARD.
1802.

Gosport – A Ballad was originally composed and performed by Richard leveridge at the Theatre in Lincolns Inn Field. It was called ‘The Cobbler’s End’.
The music was used by Henry Man for his song ‘Gosport – A Ballad’

Gosport – A Ballad

To the tune of —” A Cobler there was, ” &c.

I SING not of Naples, of Venice, of Rome,
Of the pillar of Trajan, or Peter’s fine dome;
Neither praise I old Brentford, that place of renown,
But will sing of a sea-port, and Gosport’s the
town.
Derry down.

If the streets were more clean, you’d walk more at
your ease,
But, believe me, the mud is quite up to your
knees;
Whịch, though not quite so pleasant as meadows and
lawns,
Is convenient enough, since it’s soft to the corns.
Derry down.

Then all those who’re oblig’d to walk out in the
night,
Can’t complain of the lamps, that they give a bad
light,
That the oil is too bad, or the wicks are too small,
I’ll be curst if they can, for there’s no light at all.
Derry down.

And the inns are so noble, so neat, and so clean,
If you talk of a mop, they scarce know what you
mean,
All infections, however, they keep from their doors,
With tobacco-juice sprinkl’d, to sweeten the floors.
Derry down.

The want of fine buildings and grand colonades
Is made up by fine women, dear, good-humour’d
jades;
Though the lasses of pleasure, take black, fair, and
brown,
Scarce amount to ten thousand in all Gosport town.
Derry down.

Then the tars who get drunk such civility shew,
That by day light you sometimes in safety may
go;
And though; after dark, you are often knock’d
down,
There are plasters in plenty in Gosport’s good
town.
Derry down.

So polite, and so social, the people are here,
They’ll converse with their friends once or twice
in a year;
By friends, I mean those, of an equal-degree,
For why should great folks with inferiors be free?
Derry down.

At balls and assemblies, such wisdom is shewn,
All distinctions and stations are easily known ;
For each officer’s state, as good breeding contrives,
Is copied with care, and kept up by their wives.
Derry down.

The police is so perfect, such order is kept,
Law and Gospel, long time, have so silently slept,
That e’en Justice herself, does not cure to appear,
Having long since been drown’d in a butt of strong
beer.
Derry down.

But adieu to his worship, to Gosport adieu,
Though a theme more delightful no’ muse can
pursue;
For the coach is prepar’d, to set off from the Crown,
So I’ll finish the praises of Gosport’s sweet town.
Derry down.