Broadside sheet printed by R Lane with two seditious songs from Norwich. These were sent by Thomas Coldwell of Norwich Post Office to the General Post Office Secretary as examples of seditious publications that ‘inflame the minds of the lower class of people’, 10 July 1820. (Catalogue reference HO 33/2/52 f167)
Transcript
SONG
TUNE – “Weave your Blue and White”
No longer lost in shades of night,
Where late in chains we lay;
The sun arises, and his light
Dispels our gloom away.
CHORUS
And demanding Freedom all,
Demanding Freedom all,
While kings combine,
We boldly join,
Nor cease till tyrants fall.
Nor longer blind, and proud to lie,
In slavery profound;
But for redress aloud we cry!
And tyrants hear the sound.
Demanding Freedom, &c.
The pomp of courts no more engage;
The magic spell is broke,
We hail the bright reforming age!
And cast away the joke.
Demanding Freedom, &c.
Our substance and our blood no more,
So tamely shall we yield,
Nor quit like slaves our native shore,
To deck the monster’s field.
But demanding Freedom, &c.
The rotten lumber of the land,
The courtly pensioned train;
Shall hear their sentence disband,
As we our rights regain,
Thus demanding Freedom,&c.
The mitred Villain, as he roll
In luxury and lust,
He blinds and robs the silly souls
Committed to his trust.
But demanding Freedom &c.
Amused no more with empty lies,
Of bliss we never knew;
The Traitors drop the state disguise
And closely we pursue
Demanding Freedom, &c.
R. Lane, Printer, Bridewell-Alley, Norwich
SONG
TUNE – “Roncesvalles”
BRITONS, from this fatal slumber
Rouse! Your Country succour craves!
Woes beset you without number,
Rouse! Nor crawl a race of slaves.
Hark! The voice of Freedom calls you
For your dearest rights to stand!
Let worse the ills than these befall you,
Drive your tyrants from the land.
Will you yield to die with hunger?
Shall the dungeon hide each head?
Shall the scoundrel borough-monger
Rob you of your hard-earned bread?
Once Columbia’s mighty people
Pined in fetters tight as we,
But, resolved base power to cripple,
Won the blessing, Liberty.
Not idly they let sleep the thunder,
Nor basely prayed to kings for bread,
They burst their galling chains asunder,
And wreathed them round the tyrant’s head,
Let brave Sidney’s name inspire ye,
Emulate his glorious worth,
Let such bright examples fire ye,
Drive your despots from the earth.
Let not villain threats confound ye,
Fear not jails nor gibbets dire,
Lo! Your infants starving round ye,
Vengeance deep their cries inspire.
Brave, in Freedom’s cause to perish;
Mean, of plagues or want at home;
Then the generous impulse cherish;
Freedom, or a glorious doom.
Arm! Arm! In Freedom’s cause of glory,
Your homes, your wives, your children save:
Hear! hear! your Country’s voice implore ye
To save her Freedom from the grave.
R. Lane, Printer, Bridewell-Alley, Norwich