Come, cheer up, my lads, 'tis to glory we steer, To add something more to this wonderful year; To honour we call you, as freemen not slaves, For who are as free as the sons of the waves?
Heart of oak are our ships, jolly tars are our men, we always are ready; Steady, boys, steady! We'll fight and we'll conquer again and again.
We never see our foes but we wish them to stay, They always see us and they wish us away; If they run, we will follow, we will drive them ashore, And if they won't fight, we can do no more.
They swear they'll invade us, these terrible foes, They frighten our women, our children and beaus, But should their flat bottoms in darkness get o'er, Still Britons they'll find to receive them on shore.
Britannia triumphant, her ships sweep the sea, Her standard is Justice - her watchword, 'be free.' Then cheer up, my lads, with one heart let us sing, Our soldiers, our sailors, our statesmen, and king.