Classic Poem

Come , all ye jolly sailors bold,
Whose hearts are cast in honour's mould,
While English glory I unfold,
Huzza for the Arethusa !
She is a frigate tight and brave,
As ever stemmed the dashing wave;
Her men are staunch
To their fav'rite launch.
And when the foe shall meet our fire,
Sooner than strike, we'll all expire
On board of the Arethusa .

'Twas with the Spring fleet she went out
The English Channel to cruise about,
When four French sail, in show so stout,
Bore down on the Arethusa .
The famed Belle Poule ahead did lie,
The Arethusa scorned to fly,
Not a sheet, nor a tack,
Nor a brace did she slack;
Though the Frenchman laughed and thought it stuff,
But they knew not the handful of men, how tough,
On board of the Arethusa .

On deck five hundred men did dance,
The stoutest they could find in France;
We with two hundred did advance
On board of the Arethusa .
Our captain hailed the Frenchman, " Ho! "
The Frenchman then cried out, " Hallo! "
" Bear down, d'ye see,
To our Admiral's lee! "
" No, no, " says the Frenchman, " that can't be. "
" Then I must lug you along with me, "
Says the saucy Arethusa .

The fight was off the Frenchman's land,
We forced them back upon the strand,
For we fought till not a stick could stand
Of the gallant Arethusa .
And now we've driven the foe ashore
Never to fight with Britons more,
Let each fill his glass
To his fav'rite lass;
A health to the captain and officers true,
And all that belong to the jovial crew
On board of the Arethusa .