When Collingwood conquer’d our foes so completely,
And gain’d a fine laurel his brow to entwine;
In order to manage the matter quite neatly,
Mann’d his vessel with tars from the banks of the Tyne.
Flow on, lovely Tyne, &c.
Thou dearest of rivers, oft times have I wander’d
Thy margin along when oppressed with grief,
And thought of thy stream, as it onward meander’d,
The murmuring melody gave me relief.
Flow on, lovely Tyne, &c.