Page:Songs of a Savoyard.djvu/18

14

Then our Captain he up and he says, says he,
 * "That chap we need not fear,—
 * We can take her, if we like,
 * She is sartin for to strike.
 * For she's only a darned Mounseer,
 * D'ye see?
 * She's only a darned Mounseer!

But to fight a French fal-lal—it's like hittin' of a gal—
 * It's a lubberly thing for to do;
 * For we, with all our faults,
 * Why, we're sturdy British salts,
 * "While she's but a Parley-voo,
 * D'ye see?
 * A miserable Parley-voo!"

So we up with our helm, and we scuds before the breeze,
 * As we gives a compassionating cheer;
 * Froggee answers with a shout
 * As he sees us go about,
 * Which was grateful of the poor Mounseer,
 * D'ye see?
 * Which was grateful of the poor Mounseer!

And I'll wager in their joy they kissed each other's cheek
 * (Which is what them furriners do),
 * And they blessed their lucky stars
 * We were hardy British tars
 * Who had pity on a poor Parley-voo,
 * D'ye see?
 * Who had pity on a poor Parley-voo!