The South Sea Whim.
To the TUNE of
To you Fair Ladies now at Land, etc.
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1.
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TO you fair Traders now a Shore,
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We South Sea Cullies write,
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Your kind Compassion to implore,
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This Ditty we indite;
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Pity your Brethren on the Main,
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Compell'd to change our Course in vain.
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With a fa, la, etc.
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2.
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We are a wretched Motly Crew,
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More various than the Weather,
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Made up of Debtors Old, and New,
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Jumbled and tack'd together;
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Tars, Soldiers, Merchants, Transports, Tallies,
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Chain'd in a row like Slaves in Gallies.
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With a fa, la, etc.
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3.
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We furnish'd Beer, We Guns and Balls,
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We Ships, or Money Lent,
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With Hemp enough to serve them all,
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O, may it so be spent!
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And since his Payments are so few,
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Give Caesar what is Caesars Due.
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With a fa, la, etc.
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4.
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To fetch the Navy Pitch and Tar,
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We past the Stormy Sound;
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But now our Debts postpon'd so far,
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We must take t'other Round,
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And e'er we have our own again,
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Must shoot the Streights of Magellan.
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With a fa, la, etc.
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5.
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And we poor Grasiers of the Plain,
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Who serv'd them Pork and Beef,
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Must take hard Words instead of Gain,
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And Charters for Relief;
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For Sound good Meat without a Hogo,
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They give us Bills on Terr' del Fuego.
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With a fa, la, etc.
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6.
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We honest Tars, that oft come Home
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Without an Arm or Leg,
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Must hope no more for Trulls, or Rum,
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But be content to beg:
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Our Wages stop'd without Account,
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The Crew is all turn'd o'er to Blunt.
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With a fa, la, etc.
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7.
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Two Scurvy Letters R, and Q
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Did long the Sea infest,
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Made some dispute and prove their Due,
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But still they paid the rest.
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This sweeping Torrent none can Stem,
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We're run aground on O, and M.
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With a fa, la, etc.
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8.
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But come, my Lads, together stand,
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Let's suffer this no more:
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Shall we that on the Seas command,
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Be Bully'd thus a Shore?
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No, no, my Boys, pull th' Helm a-Lee,
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And Heave the Rogues into the Sea.
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With a fa, la, etc.
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