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 Fight on my boys, he aid, Tis my lot, ’tis my lot, Fight on my Britih boys, 'tis my lot.

While the urgeon dres'd his wounds. How he cry’d, how he cry’d While the urgeon dres'd his wounds, how he Let my cradle now in hate, (cry’d, On the quarter-deck be plac’d, That mine en’mies I may face Till I die, till I die. That mine en’mies I may face, till I die.

And there brave Benbow lay Crying out boys, crying out boys, And there brave Benbow lay, crying out boys, Let’s tack about once more. We’ll drive them all on hore, We value not half a core, Nor their noie, nor their noie. We value not half a core, nor their noie.

Unupported thus he fought Nor would run, nor would run Unupported thus he fought nor would run. Till his hip was a mere wreck, And no one would him back, For the other would not lack To fire a gun, to fire a gun, For the other would not lack to fire a gun.

For Jamaica then at lat, He et ail, he et ail, For Jamaica then at lat he et ail,