_THE LIGHTERMAN’S PRENTICE PREST AND SENT TO SEA._ A prentice I was at Wapping-new-stairs, And a smart young lad was I; But that old blackguard old W----d, He inform’d, and had forty shillings for me. It was on the last day of February, In the year of fifty-five: He had me taken out of bed; When my friends heard it, lord! how they cry’d. My mother and my cousin both They on board of the tender came with speed, And thro’ the grates to them I talk’d, It was enough to make any heart to bleed. My mother and my cousin both, They in a boat did go ashore. Then from the Tower we set sail, For the _Yarmouth_ rideing at the Nore. In happen’d on a Sunday morning We arrived at the Nore; The commodore fir’d his signal gun For the women all to go ashore. And when unto the ship I went, They put me in a great surprize; There I heard some swearing and some cursing, And some damning their precious eyes, To think that the commodore fir’d his signal For all their wives to go ashore; There was some crying and some sniffling, Crying ‘My dear, I shall see you no more.’ Then from the Nore we did set sail, And unto Spithead we was bound. It was a pretty sight to see The lasses lin’d round Portsmouth town. Then from the _Yarmouth_ I was sent On board of _Captain_, so-call’d by name; There I fell sick on board of her, And to Gosport hospital sent for the same. There for three long months I stay’d, And very bad I was indeed; But I got well and away I went On board of the _Captain_ with speed. I had not been on board her long Before the fleet they all did sail, From Spithead to St. Helens, boys, With a fine and pleasant gale. And when to St. Helens, boys, we came, The wind at west was very high; Sir Edward Hawke hove out his signal, For to come to anchor that very night. Sir Edward he hove out another signal, For the captain’s boat to come with speed, It was for to turn over fifty hands, On board of the _Ipswich_ indeed. And when alongside of the _Ipswich_ we came, I boldly in her jump’d in: And a-cruizing the Channel I went in her, And the French dogs we did sweetly trim. We’d not been out above six weeks Before the news to us was brought: Then to take, sink, burn, and destroy All the French ships we came athwart. It happen’d on a Sunday morning, As we was on our starboard tack, Between the hours of nine and ten, Three sail of Frenchmen we did take. We fir’d a shot and hoisted our colours, Then to let them see what we was; As soon as they came along side us They saw we was English boys, Then straitway they haul’d down their colours, And unto us they did strike; And they know’d that they must sink, If they had offer’d for to fight. We took five more, which made us eight,