Huzza, my boys! our friends the Dutch have risen,
Our good old friends, and burst the Tyrant's prison!
Aye, and have done it without bloodshed too,
Like men, to sense as well as freedom true.
The moment, I'll be sworn, that Ocean heard it,
With a new dance of waters it bestirr'd it;
And Trade, reviving from her trance of death,
Took a new lease of sunshine and of breath.
Let's aid them, my fine fellows, all we can:—
Where's finer business for an Englishman—
Who knows what 'tis to eat his own good bread,
And see his table-cloth securely spread—
Than helping to set free a neighbour's oven?
Huzza! The Dutch for ever! Orange Boven!
James Henry Leigh Hunt
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/bellman-s-verses-for-1814/
