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Of prizes rich we'll sweep the flood, can British Tars wish more?
And when from driving Bourbon's fleet, victorious we arrive,With music, dance, and jovial treat, to please our girls we'll strive;Both Spanish silver and French gold, We'll count in plenty o'er,Which we have won, my shipmates bold, can British Tars wish more?
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The KIND are YOUNG and FAIR.
To beauty born a willing slave, a merry happy man,I slight the nymph I cannot have, and dost on those I can.Chor: This constant maxim still I hold,to baffle all despair,The (illegible text), ugly are and old,the kind are young and fair.
The women would no more perplex, We're men resolv'd and free.Soft smiles become the charming sex, no pouting Miss for me.
In wedlock's bands if e'er I join, good humour be my guide,Let dimpled smiles and love be mine, I'll laugh at female pride.
