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Poem by Anonymous The Death of Admiral Benbow Come all you sailors bold, Lend an ear, Come all you sailors bold, Lend an ear: ’Tis of our Admiral’s fame, Brave Benbow called by name, How he fought on the main You shall hear. Brave Benbow he set sail For to fight, Brave Benbow he set sail For to fight: Brave Benbow he set sail, With a fine and pleasant gale, But his captains they turned tail In a fight. Says Kirkby unto Wade, I will run, Says Kirkby unto Wade, I will run: I value not disgrace, Nor the losing of my place, My foes I will not face With a gun. ’Twas the Ruby and Noah's Ark Fought the French, ’Twas the Ruby and Noah’s Ark Fought the French: And there was ten in all, Poor souls they fought them all, They recked them not at all Nor their noise. It was our Admiral’s lot, With a chain-shot, It was our Admiral’s lot, With a chain-shot: Our Admiral lost his legs, And to his men he begs, Fight on, my boys, he says, ’Tis my lot. While the surgeon dressed his wounds, Thus he said, While the surgeon dressed his wounds, Thus he said, Let my cradle now in haste On the quarter-deck be placed, That the Frenchmen I may face, Till I'm dead. And there bold Benbow lay, Crying out, And there bold Benbow lay, Crying out, O let us tack once more, We'll drive them to the shore, As our fathers did before Long ago. Anonymous Anonymous's other poems:
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