Tight little island/The Tight Little Island

by Thomas Dibdin

For other versions of this work, see The Snug Little Island.

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The Tight Little Island.

Daddy Neptune, one day,

To Freedom did say,

If ever I live upon dry land,

The spot I should 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;

Search the globe round-none can be found,

So happy as this little island.

Julius Cæsar, the Roman

Who yielded to no man,

Came by water, he couldnt come by land,

And Dane, Pict, and Saxon,

Their home turn'd their backs 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 on the island.

Then a very great war=man,

Call'd Billy the Norman,

Cried, Hang it, I never lik‘d my land,

It would be more handy,

To leave this Normandy,

And live on yon beautiful island.

Says he, Tis a snug little island,

Shan't we 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 manag'd 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 the island,

That's very true-what could he do,

Like a Briton he died for the island.

Then the Spanish Armada,

Sent out to invade a'.

Quite sure, if they ever came nigh land;

They coudn't do less,

Than tuck up Queen Bess,

And take their full swig in the island,

Oh, the poor Queen of the Island,

The drones came to plunder the island,

But snug in her hive-the Q ueen was alive,

Andbuz was the word in the island.

These proud puff’d up cakes,

Thought to make ducks and drakes

Of our wealth, but they scarcely could spy land’

Ere our Drake had the luck,

To make their pride duck,
And stoop to the lads of the island.

Huzza for the lads of the island,

The good wooden walls of the island.

Monsieur or Don—let them come on,
But how would they come off at the

island.

I dont 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 them long for the island,

Hold a bit there—let them take fire and air,

But we’ll keep the sea and the island.

Then since Freedom and Neptune,

Have hitherto kept tune,

In each saying, This shall be my land,

Should the army of England,

And all they could bring land,

We’d shew them some play for the island.

We'd' fight for our right to the island.

We'd give them enough of the island,

Frenchmen should just-bite at the dust,

But not a bit more of the island.