(7)
Fight on my boys, he ſaid,
Tis my lot, ’tis my lot,
Fight on my Britiſh boys, 'tis my lot.
While the ſurgeon dreſs'd his wounds.
How he cry’d, how he cry’d
While the ſurgeon dreſs'd his wounds, how he
Let my cradle now in haſte, (cry’d,
On the quarter-deck be plac’d,
That mine en’mies I may face
Till I die, till I die.
That mine en’mies I may face, till I die.
And there brave Benbow lay
Crying out boys, crying out boys,
And there brave Benbow lay, crying out boys,
Let’s tack about once more.
We’ll drive them all on ſhore,
We value not half a ſcore,
Nor their noiſe, nor their noiſe.
We value not half a ſcore, nor their noiſe.
Unſupported thus he fought
Nor would run, nor would run
Unſupported thus he fought nor would run.
Till his ſhip was a mere wreck,
And no one would him back,
For the other would not ſlack
To fire a gun, to fire a gun,
For the other would not ſlack to fire a gun.
For Jamaica then at laſt,
He ſet ſail, he ſet ſail,
For Jamaica then at laſt he ſet ſail,
