COme brave noble hearted Sea-men,
let us all with Courage stand,
To maintain our Natives free men,
in this Ancient Christian Land;
That Rome never may enslave us,
by their crafty Villany;
We'll not do as they would have us,
but will pull down Popery.
This great Prince is come from Holland,
to maintain the Nations right;
We by Sea will bravely fall on,
when there shall be need to fight;
Cannons roar like Claps of Thunder,
on the foaming Ocean Sea,
For to keep the Romans under,
and to pull down Popery.
These two Fleets are joyn'd together,
Brittains blessing to regain.
Fearing neither Wind nor Weather,
Boys, we'll plow the Ocean main;
For to drive the world before us,
as our Enemies shall see,
France shall soon our Rights restore us,
for we'll pull down Popery.
Let true valliant Souls assemble,
scorning ever to retreat,
Till we make all France to tremble,
at our vast commanding Fleet;
Boys, we'll keep them in subjection,
for we vow to keep the Sea;
King William will be our protection,
while we pull down Popery.
May the French King have no Trading
to the Lands which we belong,
But let's seize his Ships of Lading,
to retaliate our wrong:
Nay, and likewise for his Merit,
the Pope's Vassal may he be,
Or else drown'd himself in Claret,
while we pull down Popery.
They have felt great Brittains power
in the former ages past,
And there's Seamen to this hour,
that will fight while Life doth last,
For their Native Land and Nation,
On the stormy Ocean Sea;
Now without all Disputation,
we shall pull down Popery.
I on board my Name will enter,
and not stand the least to pause,
Life and Fortune freely venter,
to maintain the Christian Cause;
What can be a greater Glory,
than to fight for Liberty?
Send our Foes to Purgatory,
as we pull down Popery.
Might I have the greatest treasure,
which the Nation can afford,
And enjoy both peace and pleasure,
yet I'de freely go on board:
This my Duty does require,
for to fight for Liberty,
Make our proudest Foes retire,
likewise pull down Popery.
To reward the hateful malice,
of the Antichristian Slaves,
Send them hence to Plutos Pallace,
make the foaming Seas their Graves:
Let them make their Invocation,
to their old St. Anthony,
While we purge and clear the Nation,
from the Dregs of Popery.