DOBELL
‘How many?’ said our good captain,‘Twenty sail and more!’We were homeward bound,Scudding in a gale with our jib towards the Nore;—Right athwart our tack,The foe came thick and black,Like hell-birds and foul weather—you might count them by the score!TheBetsy Janedid slackTo see the game in view;They knew the Union Jack,And the tyrant’s flag we knew.Our captain shouted, ‘Clear the decks!’ and the bo’sun’s whistle blew.Then our gallant captain,With his hand he seized the wheel,And pointed with his stump to the middle of the foe,—‘Hurrah, lads, in we go!’(You should hear the British cheer,Fore and aft!)‘There are twenty sail,’ sang he,‘But littleBetsy Janebobs to nothing on the sea!’(You should hear the British cheer,Fore and aft!)‘See yon ugly craftWith the pennon at her main!Hurrah, my merry boys,There goes theBetsy Jane!’(You should hear the British cheer,Fore and aft!)The foe, he beats to quarters, and the Russian bugles sound;And the littleBetsy Janeshe leaps upon the sea.‘Port and starboard!’ cried our captain;‘Pay it in, my hearts!’ sang he.‘We’re old England’s sons,And we’ll fight for her to-day!’(You should hear the British cheer,Fore and aft!)‘Fire away!’In she runs,And her gunsThunder round.Sydney Dobell.
‘How many?’ said our good captain,‘Twenty sail and more!’We were homeward bound,Scudding in a gale with our jib towards the Nore;—Right athwart our tack,The foe came thick and black,Like hell-birds and foul weather—you might count them by the score!TheBetsy Janedid slackTo see the game in view;They knew the Union Jack,And the tyrant’s flag we knew.Our captain shouted, ‘Clear the decks!’ and the bo’sun’s whistle blew.Then our gallant captain,With his hand he seized the wheel,And pointed with his stump to the middle of the foe,—‘Hurrah, lads, in we go!’(You should hear the British cheer,Fore and aft!)‘There are twenty sail,’ sang he,‘But littleBetsy Janebobs to nothing on the sea!’(You should hear the British cheer,Fore and aft!)‘See yon ugly craftWith the pennon at her main!Hurrah, my merry boys,There goes theBetsy Jane!’(You should hear the British cheer,Fore and aft!)The foe, he beats to quarters, and the Russian bugles sound;And the littleBetsy Janeshe leaps upon the sea.‘Port and starboard!’ cried our captain;‘Pay it in, my hearts!’ sang he.‘We’re old England’s sons,And we’ll fight for her to-day!’(You should hear the British cheer,Fore and aft!)‘Fire away!’In she runs,And her gunsThunder round.Sydney Dobell.
‘How many?’ said our good captain,‘Twenty sail and more!’We were homeward bound,Scudding in a gale with our jib towards the Nore;—Right athwart our tack,The foe came thick and black,Like hell-birds and foul weather—you might count them by the score!
TheBetsy Janedid slackTo see the game in view;They knew the Union Jack,And the tyrant’s flag we knew.Our captain shouted, ‘Clear the decks!’ and the bo’sun’s whistle blew.
Then our gallant captain,With his hand he seized the wheel,And pointed with his stump to the middle of the foe,—‘Hurrah, lads, in we go!’(You should hear the British cheer,Fore and aft!)
‘There are twenty sail,’ sang he,‘But littleBetsy Janebobs to nothing on the sea!’(You should hear the British cheer,Fore and aft!)
‘See yon ugly craftWith the pennon at her main!Hurrah, my merry boys,There goes theBetsy Jane!’(You should hear the British cheer,Fore and aft!)
The foe, he beats to quarters, and the Russian bugles sound;And the littleBetsy Janeshe leaps upon the sea.‘Port and starboard!’ cried our captain;‘Pay it in, my hearts!’ sang he.
‘We’re old England’s sons,And we’ll fight for her to-day!’(You should hear the British cheer,Fore and aft!)‘Fire away!’
In she runs,And her gunsThunder round.
Sydney Dobell.