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SEA SONGS. 17 |
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With six good liners sailing
For Panama we went; We had no thought of failing,
Though to tough work we were sent; There was our port, snug lying
A mile deep, down its bay, With three forts, foes defying,
To maul us on our way; De Ferro's guns, a hundred,
First hid us in their fog; From Gloria ninety thundered
As in went brave Old Grog.
We saw no use in wasting
Good time; their castles quick A dose from us were tasting
That soon their Dons made sick ; We gave them such a warming,
They found it far too hot; Then, through their gun-ports swarming,
Into their forts we shot; A twinkle—they were knowing
How Dons and such we flog; Our flag run up was showing
All right to brave Old Grog. |
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