Yes, we're the hope of England now,
And rank wi' the Navy too;
An' all the papers speak us fair—"Nothing he will not lightly dare,
"Be polite to Merchant Jack,
Who brings you in the meat,
For if he went on a striking lay, you'd have to go on your knees and pray,
With never a bone to eat."
But you can lay your papers down
An' set your fears aside,