The Mariner’s Song
From the ‘Comedy of Common Conditions,’ about 1570.
Lustely, lustely, lustely let us saile forthe;
The winde trim doth serve us, it blows from the north.
All thinges we have ready and nothing we want
To furnish our ship that rideth hereby;
Victuals and weapons thei be nothing skant,
Like worthie mariners ourselves we will trie.
Lustely, lustely, &c.
Her flagges be new trimmed, set flanting alofte,
Our ship for swift swimmyng, oh! she doth excel;
We fear no enemies, we have escaped them ofte;
Of all ships that swimmeth she beareth the bell.
Lustely, lustely, &c.
And here is a maister excelleth in skill,
And our maister’s mate he is not to seeke;
And here is a boteswaine will do his good will,
And here is a ship, boy, we never had leak.
Lustely, lustely, &c.
If fortune then faile not, and our next voiage prove,
We will return merely, and make good cheare,
And holde all together as friends link’d in love;
The cannes shall be filled with wine, ale, and beer.
Lustely, lustely, &c.