Page:Herring in sa't with The answer.pdf/6

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To its own Proper Tune.

HE fourteenth of September,

in Torbay as we lay,

Bold Hawke did hoiſt his flag, Sir,

and came on board that day:

Kind Neptune did protect us,

with a ſweet and pleaſant breeze,

We Hoifted up our topſails,

in croſſing the roaring ſeas.

We had not croſs'd the roaring ſeas,

full thirty leagues or more,

We ſpy'd a ſail to windward,

and down on us ſhe bore.

O then we hail'd our Admiral,

and thus to him did ſay,

The French fleet is all ſail'd out, Sir,

and bound for Quib'ron Bay.

Can you tell me at what diſtance,

and whereabout they ly?

O yes, kind Sir, he then reply'd,

it's thirty leagues to day.

There's twenty-two ſail of the line,

to leeward of us do lie,

All clean and tight for action,

as ever you did ſee,