(Farewell to You, Ye Fine) Spanish Ladies

Originale

Lyrics from Shanties from the Seven Seas, by Stan Hugill

(FAREWELL TO YOU, YE FINE) SPANISH LADIES Farewell and adieu to you, gay Spanish ladies, Farewell and adieu to you, ladies of Spain, For we've received orders for to sail to old England; But we hope very soon we shall see you again. Well rant and we'll roar like true British sailors, We'll rant and we'll roar across the salt seas, Until we strike soundings in the channel of old England, From Ushant to Scilly is thirty-five leagues. Then we hove our ship to with the wind at sou'-west, my boys, We hove our ship to our soundings for to see; So we rounded and sounded, and got forty-five fathoms, We squared our mainyard, up channel steered we. Well rant and we'll roar like true British sailors, We'll rant and we'll roar across the salt seas, Until we strike soundings in the channel of old England, From Ushant to Scilly is thirty-five leagues. Now the first land we made it is called the Deadman, Then Ram Head off Plymouth, Start, Portland, and Wight; We sailed by Beachy, by Fairlee and Dungeness, Until we came abreast of the South Foreland Light. Well rant and we'll roar like true British sailors, We'll rant and we'll roar across the salt seas, Until we strike soundings in the channel of old England, From Ushant to Scilly is thirty-five leagues. Then the signal was made for the grand fleet for to anchor, All in the Downs that night for to meet; Then it's stand by your stoppers, let go your shank painters, Haul all your clew garnets, stick out tacks and sheets. Well rant and we'll roar like true British sailors, We'll rant and we'll roar across the salt seas, Until we strike soundings in the channel of old England, From Ushant to Scilly is thirty-five leagues. Now let every man toss of a full bumper, And let every man toss off a full bowl; And we'll drink and be merry and drown melancholy, Singing, here's a good health to all true-hearted souls. Well rant and we'll roar like true British sailors, We'll rant and we'll roar across the salt seas, Until we strike soundings in the channel of old England, From Ushant to Scilly is thirty-five leagues.

(FAREWELL TO YOU, YE FINE) SPANISH LADIES Farewell an' adieu to you fair Spanish ladies, Farewell an' adieu to you ladies of Spain, For we've received orders for to sail for old England, An' hope very shortly to see you again. We'll rant an' we'll roar, like true British sailors, We'll rant an' we'll rave across the salt seas, 'Till we strike soundings in the Channel of Old England, From Ushant to Scilly is thirty-four leagues. We hove our ship to, with the wind at sou'west, boys, We hove our ship to for to take soundings clear. In fifty-five fathoms with a fine sandy bottom, We filled our maintops'l, up Channel did steer. The first land we made was a point called the Deadman, Next Ramshead off Plymouth, Start, Portland, and Wight. We sailed then by Beachie, by Fairlee and Dungeyness, Then bore straight away for the South Foreland Light. Now the signal was made for the Grand Fleet to anchor, We clewed up our tops'ls, stuck out tacks and sheets. We stood by our stoppers, we brailed in our spankers, And anchored ahead of the noblest of fleets. Let every man here drink up his full bumper, Let every man here drink up his full bowl, And let us be jolly and drown melancholy,