SONGS, In th spoil'd child

I AM a brisk and sprightly lad, But just come home from sea, Sir, Of all the lives I ever led, A sailor's life for me. Sir, Yeo, yeo, yeo! yeo, yeo, yeo! Whilst the boatswain pipes all hands, With a yeo, yeo, yeo, Sir.

What girl but loves the merry tar, We o'er the ocean roam, Sir, In every clime we find a port, In every port a home, Sir. Yeo, yeo, yeo, &c.

But when our country's foes are nigh Each hastens to his gun, Sir, We make the boasting Spaniard fly, And bang the haughty Don, Sir. Yeo, yeo, yeo, &c.

Our foes subdu'd, once more on shore, We spend our cash with glee, Sir, And when all's gone, we drown our care, And out again to sea, Sir. Yeo, yeo, yeo! yeo, yeo, yeo! And when all's gone, again to sea, With a yeo, yeo, yeo, Sir.