You gentlemen of England, That live at home at ease, How little do you think upon The dangers of the seas; Give ear unto the mariners, And they will plainly show All the cares and the fears When the stormy winds do blow. The sailor must have courage, No danger must he shun; In every kind of weather His course he still must run; Now mounted on the top-mast, How dreadful 'tis below: Then we ride, as the tide, When the stormy winds do blow. |
If enemies oppose us, And England is at war With any foreign nation, We fear not wounds nor scar. To humble them, come on, lads, Their flags we'll soon lay low; Clear the way for the fray, Tho' the stormy winds do blow. Sometimes in Neptune's bosom Our ship is toss'd by waves, And every man expecting The sea to be our graves; Then up aloft she's mounted, And down again so low, In the waves, on the seas, When the stormy winds do blow. |
But when the danger's over, And safe we come on shore, The horrors of the tempest We think of then no more; The flowing bowl invites us, And joyfully we go All the day drink away, Tho' the stormy winds do blow. |