The Derbyshire and Cheshire boys by Henry were sent To fetch the Flower-de-Luce home, and chearfully they went; They brought it home to England which made their hearts full glad; But if their hands had been confin’d they all had been stark mad, Alas! I dare not gather them, which makes me raving mad. _Mad, boys, mad, etc._ If I without my errand to England do return, Alas! I fear in effigy my body they will burn; The boys will hollow after me, as I do pass along, And evry Grub-street printer will curse me in a song. _Song, boys, song. And every Grub-street printer will curse me in a song._ _BOLD SAWYER._ Come all ye jolly sailors with courage stout and bold, Come enter with bold Sawyer, he’ll cloath you all in gold; Repair on board the old _Nassau_, As fine a ship as e’er you saw, We’ll make the French to stand in awe; _She’s mann’d with British boys_. Commander Keppel with his good design, Commanded the squadron, five sail of the line, The _Prince Edward_ of forty guns, The _Firedrake_ and _Furnace_ bombs, To take Goree it must be done, _By true British boys_. The 29th of October from Spithead we set sail, Kind Neptune convey’d us with a sweet and pleasant gale, So steering on the Barbary shore, Distance about twelve leagues or more, The wind at west aloud did roar; _Stand by, ye British boys_. So, steering on the lee-shore until the break of day, We spy’d a lofty sail on the Barbary shore to lay, In great distress she seem’d to be, Her guns all overboard threw she, Which prov’d the _Lichfield_ for to be, _With all her British boys_. The wind blowing hard, we could give them no relief, A stretching on the lee shore we touch’d at Teneriff. So watering the ships at Santa Cruz, Taking good wine for our ship’s use, We sold our cloaths good wine to booze, _Like brave British boys_. Our ship being water’d and plenty of good wine, We hoisted up our top-sails and crost the tropic line. The wind at west the leading gale, Our gallant ship did sweetly sail; Steady along she ne’er will fail, _With all her British boys_. ‘Steady a port! don’t bring her by the lee! Yonder is the flag-staff at Goree, I do see.’ We brought the city within sight, Anchor’d in Goree bay that night, Clear’d our ships ready to fight, _Like brave British boys_. Early next morning the _Prince Edward_ of forty guns Was station’d off the island to cover our two bombs, The old _Nassau_ she led the van, With all her jovial fighting men, The drums did beat ‘to quarter stand,’ _Like brave British boys_.