Iron coffins our ships, &c.
Britannia triumphant we all wish to see,
Quite equal to two foreign fleets, perhaps three;
So cheer up, my hearties, and banish your fears!
They will build us a ship as will float—in three years!
(Meanwhile, my lads, "chorus as before," if you please, until further orders from our Naval Oracles!)
Iron, coffins our ships,
Davy's wictims our men;
In wessels unsteady,
We're ready, aye ready,