We sail’d to the Pacific Ocean, Our hearts both undaunted and free, Bold Ross cheered us all with the notion That we should all prosperous be; But our mainmast was soon smashed to pieces While we hauled in the ship _Fury’s_ store. Said Ross, ‘Now the tempest increases, ’Tis for honour of Old England’s shore.’ Long time in tempestuous weather, ’Midst rocks, ice and water were we; We were staunch, bold, and vowed to each other To die or the North Pole to see. Ross espied from the ship’s starboard quarter The land that did add to their store-- Crying, ‘Look out, my boys, for fresh water, We’re far from Old England’s shore.’ Our hardships we bore, and were ready To follow our brave captain’s call, Who was bold, was undaunted but ready, His study alone was us all; While we roamed o’er the cold stormy regions, On wilds that were ne’er trod before, No cot, house, or church or religion, Like those upon Old England’s shore. You may talk about Parry and Cook, boys, Who tried these cold regions to find-- Only a short trip they took, boys, Then left the bright magnet behind. Bold Ross left the British flag flying, Which no one could e’er do before, Then light-hearted, though nearly dying, Came with glory to Old England’s shore. ’Twas thought that no one since Creation Would find it until time did end; But King William’s name of this nation So proud on that magnet does bend. So build for bold Ross a fine pillar, And cast it with gold letters o’er; Bold Ross brav’d the wave, ice, and billow, In triumph reached Old England’s shore. This hero, the pride of our nation, Gained honour, likewise his ship’s crew; May they rise into dignity’s station For being undaunted and true. Bold Ross, as a pledge of honour, With the Lord Mayor of London did dine, And they gave him three cheers and a bumper, Drank to trade and to commerce in wine. _THE CAPTURE OF ST. JEAN D’ACRE._ Come, all you old warlike liners, who boast of deeds of war Achieved by famous Nelson in the glorious days of yore, Hear what has happened lately along the Syrian coast: The downfall of the Egyptians, of which we made our boast. _So here’s a health to brave Napier; to brave Napier huzza! Who conquered the Egyptians, and made them run away._ On the first day of November, and forty was the year, The _Wasp_ off St. Jean d’Acre arrived, as you may hear. That night we anchor’d in the bay, and lay there all the night; At half-past ten the following day, the squadron hove in sight.