We sail the ocean blue,
And our saucy ship’s a beauty;
We’re sober men, and true,
And attentive to our duty.
When the balls whistle free o’er the bright blue sea,
We stand to our guns all day;
When at anchor we ride on the Portsmouth tide,
We have plenty of time to play.
Enter Little Buttercup, with large basket on her arm.
Recitative.