For though the Muses should prove kind, And fill our empty brain, Yet if rough Neptune rouse the wind To wave the azure main, Our paper, pen, and ink, and we, Roll up and down our ships at sea-- With a fa, la, la, la, la. Then if we write not by each post, Think not we are unkind; Nor yet conclude our ships are lost By Dutchmen or by wind: Our tears we'll send a speedier way, The tide shall bring them twice a day-- With a fa, la, la, la, la. The King with wonder and surprise Will swear the seas grow bold, Because the tides will higher rise Than e'er they did of old: But let him know it is our tears Bring floods of grief to Whitehall stairs-- With a fa, la, la, la, la.

Should foggy Opdam chance to know Our sad and dismal story, The Dutch would scorn so weak a foe, And quit their fort at Goree: For what resistance can they find From men who've left their hearts behind?-- With a fa, la, la, la, la. Let wind and weather do its worst, Be you to us but kind; Let Dutchmen vapour, Spaniards curse, No sorrow we shall find: 'Tis then no matter how things go, Or who 's our friend, or who 's our foe-- With a fa, la, la, la, la. To pass our tedious hours away We throw a merry main, Or else at serious ombre play; But why should we in vain Each other's ruin thus pursue? We were undone when we left you-- With a fa, la, la, la, la.