And that th’ assault of such a sloop was quite beneath his care:
Our captain calls, “Stand by, my lads! and when I give the word,
We slap off two smart broadsides, and run her right on board.”
The signal then was given, a rattler we let fly,
And many a gloomy Spaniard upon her decks did die:
“Now fire again! my British boys, repeat the precious dose,
For round and grape, when plied so well, they cannot long oppose.”
Now peals the roar of battle strife, now British hearts expand,
And now the anxious sailor pants to combat hand to hand;
With grapnels and with hawsers, we lash’d her to our beam,