The sun is up, and round Inchkeith
The breezes softly blaw;

The gude-man has the lines aboard—
Awa', my bairns, awa'.

An' ye'll be back by gloaming grey,
An' bright the fire will low,
An' in your tales and songs we'll tell
How weel the boat ye row.

XXV

A Cruising we will go

BEHOLD upon the swelling seas,
With streaming pendants gay,
Our gallant ship invites the waves,
While glory leads the way.

And a cruising we will go,-oho, oho, oho,
And a cruising we will go,-oho, oho, oho,
And a cruising we will go,-o-oho,
And a cruising we will go.

Ye beauteous maids, your smiles bestow,
For if you prove unkind,

How can we hope to beat the foe?

We leave our hearts behind.

When a cruising, &c.

See Hardy's flag once more display'd,
Upon the deck he stands;

Britannia's glory ne'er can fade,

Or tarnish in his hands.

So a cruising, &c.

Be Britain to herself but true,
To France defiance hurl'd:
Give peace, America, with you,
And war with all the world.

And a cruising, &c.

XXVI

Song and Chorus of Sailors

OLD England to thyself be true,

Firm as this rock thy fame shall stand:
The sword that Eliott, Curtis drew,
Be never wanted through the land:
Join then this prayer, our foes shall rue,
Let England to herself be true.

Though foes on foes contending throng,
And dreadful havock threaten round,
Thy flaming bolts shall whirl along,

Throughout the world thy thunders sound:
Nought then on earth shall make us rue,
Let England to herself be true.

What, though no grand alliance share Each warlike, envied deed of thine; 'Tis doubly glorious thus to dare

Against the world in arms to shine. Nought then shall make Britannia rue, Let Britons to themselves be true.

XXVII

Come, come, my jolly lads!'

COME, come, my jolly lads!
The wind's abaft:

Brisk gales our sails shall crowd;
Come, bustle, bustle, bustle, boys,
Haul the boat;

The boatswain pipes aloud;

The ship's unmoor'd;
All hands on board;

The rising gale

Fills ev'ry sail

The ship's well mann'd and stor❜d.

Then sling the flowing bowl

Fond hopes arise—

The girls we prize

Shall bless each jovial soul:
The can, boys, bring-

We'll drink and sing,

While foaming billows roll.

Tho' to the Spanish coast
We're bound to steer,

We'll still our rights maintain;
Then bear a hand, be steady, boys,
Soon we'll see

Old England once again:

From shore to shore

While cannons roar,

Our tars shall show The haughty foe Britannia rules the main.

Then sling the flowing bowl, &c.

XXVIII

All Hands up aloft'

ALL Hands up aloft,

Swab the Coach fore and aft,

For the Punch Clubbers strait will be sitting; For fear the Ship rowl,

Sling off a full Bowl,

For our Honour let all things be fitting:

In an Ocean of Punch

We to Night will all sail,

I' th' Bowl we're in Sea Room,

Enough we ne'er fear;

Here's to thee Mess-mate,

Thanks honest Tom,

"Tis a Health to the King,

Whilst the Larboard Man drinks,

Let the Starboard Man sing,

With full double Cups,
We'll Liquor our Chaps,
And then we'll turn out,
With a Who up, Who, Who,
But let's drink e'er we go,
But let's drink e'er we go.

Punch Clubbers] members of a Punch Club.

The Winds veering aft,
Then loose ev'ry Sail,

She'll bear all her Topsails a-trip :
Heave the Logg from the Poop,
It blows a fresh Gale,

And a just Account on the Board keep:
She runs the eight knots,
And eight Cups to my thinking,
That's a Cup for each Knot,
Must be fill'd for our Drinking;
Here's to thee Skipper,
Thanks honest John,

"Tis a Health to the King,
Whilst the one is drinking,
The other shall fill,

With full, &c.

The Quartier must Cun,

Whilst the foremast-man steers;

Here's a Health to each Port where'er bound,
Who delays 'tis a Bumper,

Shall be drubb'd at the Geers;
The Depth of each Cup therefore sound:
To our noble Commander

To his Honour and Wealth,

May he drown and be damn'd,

That refuses the Health:

Here's to thee honest Harry,
Thanks honest Will,

Old true Penny still,

Whilst the one is a drinking,

The other shall fill.

With full, &c.

Quartier] Quarter-master.

Cun] direct the course.