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THE
POLLY PRIVATEER.
COME all you gallant Seamen,
and liſten unto me,
Whilſt I relate a bloody fight
was lately fought at ſea.
As we ſet ſail from Liverpool,
to the ſalt ſeas we did ſteer,
To try our hard fortunes
in the Polly Privateer.
The twenty-fifth December,
juſt upon Chriſtmas-day,
We ſpied a large French Ship
to windward of us lay,
Our Captain he reviewed us,
and ſaid our guns was clear;
O then he cry'd, Fight on my boys
in the Polly Privateer.
We engag'd her full five glaſſes,
whilſt our cannons loud did roar,
And many a poor ſeaman
lay bleeding in his gore!
Our noble Captain wounded,
he loſt a leg moſt dear,
But ſtill ⟨he cry'd,⟩ Fight on my boys,
in the Polly Privateer.
