Brave loyal hearted English-men, attend whilst I declare, What noble preparations is made for the Hollands war; For certain such a bloody fight hath never been before, As is near, you shall hear, _when the cannons loud do roar_. View but our Navy Royal, and you will find it plain, The like thereof was never seen to sayle upon the maine: The Duke of York High Admiral will daunt the Dutch-man sure With his name and his fame, _when the cannons loud do roar_. Our ships are bravely rigged, and mann’d with seamen stout, Our souldiers good will spend their blood to bang their foes about: They long to be a dealing blows, delay doth vex them sore, With delight, they will fight, _when the cannons loud do roar_. The care and good provision for seamen that is made, Will make them fight for England’s right and never be afraid: They’l find far richer plunder then e’re they did before: Every day, in the fray, _when the cannons loud do roar_. Hark how the Dutchmen bluster, they prate and domineer, They stamp and sweat, they fume and fret, would make one laugh to hear: Their merchant ships are taken for prizes, grives them sore: But in vain, they complain, _when the cannons loud do roar_. Although they be rebellious, yet we shall pull them down, And teach them how they shall submit to England’s Royal Crown: Wee’le thump their sides most soundly and beat them ore and ore, In each fight, for our right, _when the cannons loud do roar_. There will be noble knocking, when once the navy’s meet, Then Holland’s States beware your pates, we shall you roughly greet: Your treachery at Guiny stands yet upon the score: You shall pay, at the day _when the cannons loud do roar_. Then volontiers come in amain to fight against the foe, For your reward, you shall have gaine, when to the wars you go; The Hogan Mogan’s for us all, their riches keep in store: Then be bold, fight for gold, _when the cannons loud do roar_. Brave Allen our Rear Admiral, it was his hap to meet, Near Cadiz on the Spanish coast, part of the Smyrna fleet: Where some he took, and others sunk, the rest he battered sore, Thus they lost, and were crost, _when the cannons loud did roar_. Then Butter-boxes mark your hitts, for all your wits are dull, Wee’le teach you better manners yet, than ever did old Noll: You then were basted pretty well, and forc’t to cry and lower: And to weep, on the deep, _when the cannons loud did roar_. We have tall ships, that’s newly built, the best that e’re did sayl, We shall the Flemish vessels pelt, no doubt we shall prevail: Our oaken-boards will hold it out as well now as before; Wee’le not flinch, not an inch, _when the cannons loud do roar_.