| Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). A Victorian Anthology, 1837–1895. 1895. |
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| Sea Ballad |
| | | Sydney Dobell (1824–74) |
| | | | | From “Balder” |
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| “HOW many?” said our good Captain. | |
| “Twenty sail and more.” | |
| We were homeward bound, | |
| Scudding in a gale with our jib towards the Nore. | |
| Right athwart our tack, | 5 |
| The foe came thick and black, | |
| Like Hell-birds and foul weather—you might count them by the score. | |
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| The Betsy Jane did slack | |
| To see the game in view. | |
| They knew the Union-Jack, | 10 |
| And the tyrant’s flag we knew! | |
| Our Captain shouted “Clear the decks!” and the Bo’sun’s whistle blew. | |
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| Then our gallant Captain, | |
| With his hand he seiz’d the wheel, | |
| And pointed with his stump to the middle of the foe. | 15 |
| “Hurray, lads, in we go!” | |
| (You should hear the British cheer, | |
| Fore and aft.) | |
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| “There are twenty sail,” sang he, | |
| “But little Betsy Jane bobs to nothing on the sea!” | 20 |
| (You should hear the British cheer, | |
| Fore and aft.) | |
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| “See you ugly craft | |
| With the pennon at her main! | |
| Hurrah, my merry boys, | 25 |
| There goes the Betsy Jane!” | |
| (You should hear the British cheer, | |
| Fore and aft.) | |
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| The foe, he beats to quarters, and the Russian bugles sound; | |
| And the little Betsy Jane she leaps upon the sea. | 30 |
| “Port and starboard!” cried our Captain; | |
| “Pay it in, my hearts!” sang he. | |
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| “We ’re old England’s sons, | |
| And we ’ll fight for her to-day!” | |
| (You should hear the British cheer. | 35 |
| Fore and aft.) | |
| “Fire away!” | |
| In she runs, | |
| And her guns | |
| Thunder round. | 40 |
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