Page:Three herring in sa't, with The answer.pdf/8

 Conflans was ſore affrighted,

he could no longer ſtay;

The reſt of them turn’ d rail, ny boys,

like cowards run away.

O then they ſleer’d for Corjack Bay,

where we led them a dance;

it prov'd to be the fatal blow,

that funk the Crown of France.

The Riſing Sun we burned,

and the poor Prince likewife;

And two of them we funk, my boys,

and one we made our prize.

So now the fight is over,

fill up a flowing bowl,

Whilit we’re upon the roaring ſeas,

there’s none ſhall us controul.

Here’s a health to all commanders,

that are loyal, juſt and true,

Likewife unto Sir Edward Hawke,

and the Royal George’s crew

, my faireſt, how delay,


 * danger every moment bring;

Time flies ſwift and will away,

time that’s ever on the wing,

Doubting and ſuſpence at beſt,

lovers’ fate repentance coſt;

Let us eager to be bleſt,

ſeize occaſon e’er ’tis loft.