Gloomy winter's now awa' (1813-1820)/The Fourteenth of April

The Fourteenth of April.

On the fourteenth day of April,
as you might hear them say,
Our goodly ship we launched,
upon that very day
Bound for the stormy ocean,
where thundering cannons roar,
We left our parents weeping,
all on our native shore.

Like lions bold undaunted
we bore away to sea
Nothing we could espy, brave boys
til early the next day;
About the hour of ten o'clock,
a Danish ship we spied,
Stand to your guns my hearts of oak,
our noble captain cried.

Each man unto his quarters,
so quickly did (illegible text)
We knocked down our cabins,
and swept our decks quite clear
Then we engaged that privateer,
till once we bore away.

That's bravely done our captain cried,
for soon we'll make them ſtay.

When our bold captain found
the enemy's ship was gone
We crowded all our sail, brave boys
and after her did run;
So closely we bore after her,
till early the next day,
When a lofty bold French privateer,
came bearing down that way.

She hailed us in French my boys,
and boldly bid us ſtand,
Saying where is your country,
where does your ship belong
But the answer we returned them,
it was a quick reply:
If you are our foe, we'll let you know,
we are true British boys.

But when this bold French privateer,
found we were British boys,
She hoiſted up her colours,
and at us ſhe let fly;
Then broadside for broadside,
where thundering cannons roar,
And we sunk this bold French privateer
all on our native shore.

All in that gallant action,
our captain he was slain,

Likewise our second mate,
and twenty of our men.
While the rest of our bold seamen,
they were bedeck'd in blood,
But like bold Alexander,
through fire and smoke we stood.

But now the battle's over,
and fit for sea no more,
For the loss of legs and arms,
we poor seamen now doth mourn.
No benefit we have,
from the mercy of the waves,
But still true British seamen,
we doth our country save,