Tradycyjne - The Saucy Arethusa

Come, all you jolly sailors bold,
Whose hearts are cast in honour's mould,
While English glory I unfold,
Hurrah for the Arethusa!
She is a frigate tight and brave,
As ever stemm'd 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 fam'd Belle Poule straight ahead did lie,
The Arethusa seem'd to fly,
Not a sheet, or a tack, or a brace did she slack,
Tho' the Frenchmen laugh'd, and thought it stuff,
But they knew not the handful of men, so 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,
The Captain hail'd 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 drove them back up on their strand,
For we fought till not a stick would stand
Of the gallant Arethusa.
And now we've driven the foe ashore,
Never to fight with Britons more,
Let each fill a 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.