BACCHANALIAN The ship's unmoored, All hands on. board; The rising gale Fills every sail; The ship's well manned and stored. Then sling the flowing bowl? Fond hopes /rise-- The girla we pri?, $hail ble? each jo.vial soul: The can, boys, bring-- We'll drink and sing, While foaming billows roll Though to the Spanish coast We're bound to steer, Our rights we'll there maintain; Then bear a hand be steady, boya, 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. Th?n sling, PALE FACES, STAND BY. PALS faces, stand by, And our bright ones adore, We look like our wine, You worse than our score. Come, light pu your pimples, All art we outshine; When the rosy god paints, Each streak is divine. Clean glasses are pencRs, Old claret is oil; 0,?,?,?Google '
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