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 They bound us down in irons strong, They whip'd and slash'd us all along; tongue can tell, I am certain sure, What we poor Sailors do endure. Come sit ye down, and listen a while, Fortune on this Tar did smile: his fortune for to be unto a rich Lady.

She drest herself in rich array, And went to view her slaves one day: Hearing the moan this young man made, She went to him, and thus she said: What countryman, young man, are you? I'm an Englishman, madam, that's true. I wish you was some Turk, said she, I'd ease you of your slavery.

I'd ease you of your slavery work, If you'll consent to turn a Turk, And me, myself, to be your wife, For I do love you as my life. O no! O no! O no! said he, Your constant slave, dear Ma'am, I'll be: I'll rather be burnt at the stake, Before that I'll my God forsake.