Farewell and adieu your fair Spanish ladies,
farewell and adie you ladies of Spain.
We’ve just recieved orders for to sail for old England,
we’ll bid you goodbye till we see you again.
We’ll rant an‘ we’ll roar like true British sailors,
we’ll rant an‘ we’ll rove cross salt seas,
til we strike soundings in the Channel of England,
from Ushant to Scily is thirtyfour leagues.
We hove our ship to, with the wind at sou‘ west, boys,
we hove our ship to, for to take soundings clear.
In fifty-five fathoms with a fine sandy bottom
we filled our main tops’l, up channelto steer.
The first land we made was the point called the Deadman,
next Ramshead of Plymouth, Start, Portland and Wight.
We sailed then by Beachy, by Fairly and Dungerness,
then bore straight away for the South Foreland light.
Now the signal was made for the Grand Fleet to anchor,
we clewed up our tops’ls, stuck out tacks an‘ sheets.
We stood by our stoppers and brailed in our spankers
and anchored ahead of the noblest of fleets.
Let every man here drink up his full bumper,
let every man here drink up his full bowl,
And let us be jolly and drown melancholy,
drink a health to each jovial and true-hearted soul.