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Conflans was sore affrighted,he could no longer stay;The rest of them turn'd sail, my boys,like cowards run away.
O then they steer'd for Corjack Bay,where we led them a dance;It prov'd to be the fatal blow,that sunk the Crown of France.
The Rising Sun we burned,and the poor Prince likewise;And two of them we sunk, my boys,and one we made our prize.
So now the fight is over,fill up a flowing bowl,Whilst we're upon the roaring seas,there's none shall us controul.
Here's a health to all commanders,that are loyal, just and true,Likewise unto Sir Edward Hawke,and the Royal George's crew
SEIZE OCCASION.
Think, my fairest, how delay, danger every moment bring;Time flies swift and will away,time that's ever on the wing,Doubting and suspence at best,lovers' fate repentance cost;Let us eager to be blest,seize occasion e'er 'tis lost.
Printed by J. & M. Robertson, Saltmarket, 1799
