And quit their fort at Goree:
For what resistance can they find,
From men who've left their hearts behind.
With a fa, &c.

VI.

Let wind, and weather do its worst,
Be you to us but kind;
Let Dutchmen vapour, Spaniards curse,
No sorrow we shall find;
'Tis then no matter, how things go,
Or who's our friend, or who's our foe.
With a fa, &c.

VII.

To pass our tedious hours away,
We throw a merry main;
Or else at serious Ombre play;
But why should we in vain
Each other's ruin thus pursue?
We were undone, when we left you.
With a fa, &c.

VIII.

But now our fears tempestuous grow,
And cast our hopes away;
Whilst you, regardless of our woe,