England's Triumph, and Holland's Downfall;  
OR, The Second Royal VICTORY, Obtained upon the Hollanders Fleet, in a Sea-Fight, by the King of Great Britain's Royal Navy, under the Conduct of his Highness' Prince Rupert, and his Grace, George Duke of Albemarle; as it was Heroically Fought, and undoubtfully Disputed on the 1, 2d, 3d, & 4th of June, 1666.  
To the tune of, A Fig for France and Holland too, etc.  

 

STring up your hearts, & tune your throats,  
With merry and triumphant Notes;  
Send sorrow from your Souls away,  
You never had more cause for joy:  
The Créeple may cast away his Crutch,  
And dance the Downfall of the Dutch  

Great Britain now may take its ease,  
King Charles is Sovereign of the Seas.    

The First and Second day of June,  
Put Holland's Trumpets out of Tune;  
Prince Rupert and the Duke too boot,  
Have given the Dutchmen all the Rout:  
So bloodily they cut their Coats,  
And bruised & banged, & burned their Boats,  

They ne'er will offer to displease,  
King Charles their Sovereign of the Seas.    

If Number would have won the Day,  
We were less Numerous than they;  
When Sixtéen Zealand Ships came in,  
If odds would do't, they needs must win:  
For they were Ninety Six complete,  
But who can save, whom Heaven will beat.  

When God his Mercy will express,  
Unto the Sovereign of the Seas.    

The Duke with Loyalty enraged,  
With (Fifty) Ninety Six engaged;  
But Thirty of the Dutch (to meet  
Prince Rupert) then did quit their Fleet,  
Thinking to seize the Prince by slight,  
Before their Forces could Unite:  

But no such shallow Plots as these,  
Can Cheat the Sovereign of the Seas.    

The Prince and Duke did nobly join,  
Their Loyal Forces both combine;  
And on the foaming Billows curled,  
They bid Defiance to the world:  
The Dutch engage with all their Powers,  
And scatter on us Shot like showers.  

But 'tis not such poor Powers as these,  
Can quell the Sovereign of the Seas.    

Almost as swiftly as desired,  
Fourtéen of theirs were Took and Fired;  
But their Vice-Admiral did meet,  
Our Duke i'th' Front of all his Fleet:  
They were so near they might have clutched,  
Almost shook hands, their Yard-Arms touched.  

But George's Broadside did displease,  
The Foe to th' Sovereign of the Seas.     

The second part,  
to the same tune.  
 

THe First was then so fierce and hot,  
His Hand was bruised, his Breeches shot;  
Yet though they came so hotly on,  
As soon they vanished and were gone:  
Forty or Fifty men of ours,  
Were killed & knocked down by their powers.  

Yet some of these (though with much pain)  
Appeared upon the Dec●s again.    

Prince Rupert like the God of War,  
Through their Fleet shot like a Star;  
Whose Influence like Lightning shone,  
And pierced the marrow through the bone:  
The Seas with blood were much imbrued,  
The Dutchmen fled, our Men pursued.  

Till none were seen that could displease,  
King Charles the Sovereign of the Seas.    

So long as we had Powder, we  
Pursued the Dutchmen through the Sea;  
And their du Ruiter, he in whom,  
They builded all their hopes to come:  
Four of their greatest Ships were sunk,  
They cry, The Devil's in the Monk.  

Never such men appeared like these,  
To Guard the Sovereign of the Seas.    

A gallant Ship of theirs was Fired,  
With Seventy six Guns double Tired;  
Our Henery, a Ship of Fame,  
From three Fireships escaped the Flame:  
And was so strong beset, that then  
He lost at least One hundred men.  

We must endure such hurts as these,  
To guard the Sovereign of the Seas.    

By Sea, so black and red a Fight,  
No Time or Age e'er brought to light;  
The Fire and Water did contend,  
Which should first bring them to their end:  
More valiant Men killed in three days,  
Then three and twenty years can raise.  

We can't avoid such brunts as these,  
To guard the Sovereign of the Seas.    

On Whitsonday the Duke did send,  
His Men for Cure, and Ships to mend  
Unto our English Coast, where care  
Is taken for their swift Repair:  
These Cards thus dealt, out of the Lump,  
The Royal Katherine turned up Trump.  

A Sacrifice which doth appease,  
The Royal Sovereign of the Seas.    

To sum up all, 'tis though they are,  
Unfit to raise another War;  
'Tis much presumed, 'cause they did fail,  
When they had made out all their Sail:  
These are some of those warlike Tricks,  
Becket Presaged in Sixty Six.  

〈…〉 ways such Events as these,  
Secure the Sovereign of the Seas.      

London, Printed for F. Coles, T. Vere, and J. Wright.