From The musical repository, pp18-21, 1799.

listen to the tune (midi file)

THE SNUG LITTLE ISLAND.

 Daddy Neptune one day to Freedom did say,
 If ever I liv'd upon dry land,
 The spot I shou'd hit on would be little Britain,
 Says Freedom, Why that's my own island.
 Oh! what a snug little island,
 A right little tight little island;
 All the globe round, none can be found
 So happy as this little island.
 
 Julius Cesar the Roman, who yielded to no man,
 Came by water, he couldn't come by land;
 And Dane, Pict, and Saxon their homes turn'd their hacks on,
 And all for the sake of our island.
 Oh what a snug little island,
 They'd all have a touch at the island;
 Some were shot dead,--some of them fled,
 And some staid to live in the island.
 
 Then a very great war-man, call'd Billy the Norman,
 Cried, D--n it, I never liked my land,
 It wou;d be much more handy to leave this Normandy,
 And live on yon beautiful island.
 Says he, 'Tis a snug little island,
 Shan't us go visit the island;
 Hop, skip, and jump,--there he was plump,
 And he kick'd up a dust in the island.
 
 Yet party deceit help'd the Normans to beat, 
 Of traitors they managed to buy land;
 By Dane, Saxon, or Pict we ne'er had been lick'd,
 Had they stuck to the king of the island.
 Poor Harold the king of the island,
 He lost both his life and his island;
 That's very true,--what could he do?
 Like a Briton he died for the island. 
 
 Then the Spanish Armada set out to invade a,
 Quite sure, if they ever came nigh land,
 They cou'dn't do less than tuck up Queen Bess,
 And take their full swing in the island.
 Oh the poor queen and the island,
 The drones came to plunder the island;
 But snug in her hive--the queen was alive,
 And buz was the word at the island. 
 
 The proud puff'd up cakes thought to make ducks and drake
 Of our wealth, but they scarcely could spy land,
 E'er Drake had the luck to make their pride duck,
 And stoop to the lads of the island.
 Huzza! for the lads of the island;
 Devil or Don,--let 'en come on,
 But how would they come off at the island? 
 
 I don't wonder much that the French and the Dutch
 Have since been oft tempted to try land,
 And I wonder much less they have met no success,
 For why should we give up our island?
 Oh 'tis a wonderful island!
 All of 'em long for the island;
 Hold a bit there, (let 'em)--take fire and air,
 But we'll have the sea and the island. 
 
 Then since Freedom and Neptune have hitherto kept tune,
 In each saying, This shall be my land,
 Shou'd the army of England, or all they cou'd bring, land,
 We'd show 'em some play for the island;
 We'd fight for our right to the island,
 We'd give 'em enough of the island;
 Frenchmen shou'd just--bite at our dust,
 But not a bit more of the island.