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Do any of them ever think What blasts the seamen bore, To bring their mace and nutmegs home From a far tropic shore?

Blow high, blow low, 'tis all the same, Hot suns or wintry weather, For with our sailor's knot we bind Earth's utmost coasts together:

Then do us justice, landsmen dear, For where's the need to doubt us? Since in your inmost hearts you know You cannot do without us.