| First Line |
Page |
Verses |
| Go patter to lubbers and swabs, d' ye see |
3-4 |
4 |
| When Jack parted from me, to plough the salt deep |
4-5 |
3 |
| What cheer my dear Poll---did'nt I tell you as how [sic] |
6-7 |
4 |
| Poor Jack, whose gay heart kept his spirits aloft |
7-8 |
4 |
| Why Molly, my girl, do you whimper and sob |
8-10 |
4 |
| You Molly has never been false she declares |
10 |
|
| I was d' ye see a waterman |
10-12 |
4 |
| Tar on the ocean true hearted and brave, The |
12-13 |
2 |
| Threat'ning storm, the ruffled main, The |
13 |
3 |
| Ye sons of Hibernia, who snug on dry land |
14-16 |
12 |
| Moon had climb'd the highest hill, The |
16-17 |
4 |
| Top-sail shivers in the wind, The |
17-18 |
4 |
| Sailor's life's a life of woe, A |
18-20 |
3 |
| Three years a sailor's life I led |
20 |
3 |
| Ben Bowling, a true hearted tar |
21-22 |
3 |
| When the anchor's weigh'd and the ship is unmoor'd |
22-23 |
6 |
| I sail'd from the downs in the Nancy |
23-24 |
5 |
| Spanking Jack was so comely, so pleasant, so jolly |
24-25 |
4 |
| Sailor boldly ploughs the deep, The |
25-26 |
3 |
| I that once was a ploughman, a sailor am now |
26-28 |
4 |
| How blest the life a sailor leads |
28-29 |
3 |
| Oh! think on my fate, once I freedom enjoy'd |
29-30 |
3 |
| When seated with Sall, all my messmates around |
30-31 |
3 |
| Would you know pretty Nan how we pass our time |
31-32 |
3 |
| Stand to your guns, my hearts of oak |
32 |
2 |
| Wand'ring sailor ploughs the main, The |
32-33 |
3 |
| All in the Downs the fleet was moor'd |
33-34 |
8 |
| Sweet is the ship that under sail |
35 |
4 |
| While up the shrouds the sailor goes |
36 |
4 |
| Poll dang'it how d' ye do |
36-37 |
4 |
| Here a sheer hulk lies poor Tom Bowling |
37-38 |
6 |
| When the sails catch the breeze and the anchor is weigh'd |
38-39 |
3 |
| For England when a fav'ring gale |
39 |
3 |
| When my money was gone that I gain'd in the wars |
40 |
3 |
| Heathenish Gods thought good liquor divine, The |
41 |
4 |
| My temples with clusters of grapes I'll entwine |
42 |
5 |
| Wealthy fool with gold in store, The |
42-43 |
3 |
| Banish sorrow, grief's a folly |
43-44 |
3 |
| Tho' Bacchus may boast of his care-killing bowl |
44-45 |
7 |
| Dear Tom, this brown jug that now foams with mild ale |
45 |
3 |
| Give me wine, rosy wine, that foe to despair |
45-46 |
3 |
| Here, full of fears, lies brave Hal Brazen |
46-47 |
3 |
| To Anacreon in Heav'n where he sat in full glee |
47-48 |
6 |
| Soldier tir'd of war's alarms, The |
49 |
1 |
| Sup of good whiskey will make you glad, A |
49-50 |
7 |
| Parent bird, whose little nest, The |
51 |
2 |
| Her mouth with a smile |
51-52 |
2 |
| Ah! where can fly my soul's true love? |
52 |
2 |
| This, this, my lad, is a soldier's life |
52-53 |
6 |
| Come buy of poor Mary, good matches I sell |
53-54 |
4 |
| Twins of Latona, so kind to my boon, The |
54-55 |
5 |
| O'er barren hills and flow'ry dales |
55 |
3 |
| Were I oblig'd to beg my bread |
56 |
|
| O ever in my bosom live |
56-57 |
3 |
| How sweet in the woodland, with fleet hound and horn |
57 |
2 |
| I'm jolly Dick the lamplighter |
57-58 |
4 |
| Kiss that he gave when he left me behind, The |
58-59 |
3 |
| When a little merry he |
59 |
2 |
| Faint and wearily the way-worn traveller |
60 |
2 |
| What virgin or shepherd in valley or grove |
60-61 |
3 |
| Belinda, see from yonder flow'rs |
61 |
3 |
| Hark, hark my brave boys, away to the downs |
62-63 |
7 |
| Great news, great news, great news |
64-65 |
4 |
| 'Twas post meridian, half past four |
65-66 |
6 |
| To Bachelor's Hall, we good fellows invite |
66-68 |
5 |
| John Bull, for pastime took a prance |
68-69 |
10 |
| When the rosy morn appearing |
69 |
3 |
| When Delia on the plain appears |
70 |
5 |
| Sweet Poll of Plymouth was my dear |
70-71 |
3 |
| On Richmond Hill there lives a lass |
71 |
4 |
| Conflict's o'er, my love adieu, The |
72 |
2 |