Page:Three songs (16).pdf/6

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6

The night then advancing upon us,
The moon did afford us ſome light,
Each ſtar with luſtre was ſhining,
To keep the French frigate in ſight.
All hands keep cloſe by their quarters,
And our ſhip through the water did launch
While the grog flew about in full bumpers
Among the brave tars of the Blanch.
The fight made the ſea ſeam on fire,
Fach bullet diſtractedly flew,
Britannia her ſons did inſpire
With courage that damp'd the French crew
Saying cowards now ſurely muſt
Whilſt over them death turns the lance
And our balls repeat as they fly,
Fight on my brave tars of the Blanch.
When Faulkner reſign'd his laſt breath,
Each gave a tear and a ſigh,
Saying ſorrow was found at this death.
With (illegible text)pring he read deep and died.
But like Wolf then with victory crown'd,
At his death he cried ne'er mind my chance,
But like gallant heroes fight on,
Or expire by the name of the Blanch.
Bold Wilkins his place ſoon ſupplied,
And like a bold actor engag'd,
His guns with more judgement to guide,
For the death of his captain enrag'd: