And in faith I can give ye no judgment at all.

  I've been listening to all the hard labours you've past

  And think in plain troth, you're two blockheads at last.

  My lads where the Deuce was the wit which God gave ye

  When you sold yourselves first to the army or navy?

  By land and by sea hunting dangers to roam,

  When you might have been hang'd so much easier at home!

  But you're now snug and settled and safe from foul weather,

  So drink up your grog and be merry together.