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charles villiers stanford - the old superb lyrics

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the wind was rising easterly, the morning sky was blue
the straits before us opened wide and free;
we looked towards the admiral, where high the peter flew
and all our hearts were dancing like the sea
the french are gone to martinique with four and twenty sail!
the old superb is old and foul and slow
but the french are gone to martinique, and nelson’s on the trail
and wherе he goes the old supеrb must go!’

so westward ho! for trinidad, and eastward ho! for spain
and ‘ship ahoy!’ a hundred times a day;
round the world if need be, and round the world again
with a lame duck lagging all the way

the old superb was barnacled and green as grass below
her sticks were only fit for stirring grog;
the pride of all her midshipmen was silent long ago
and long ago they ceased to heave the log
four year out from home she was, and ne’er a week in port
and nothing save the guns aboard her bright;
but captain keats he knew the game, and swore to share the sport
for he never yet came in too late to fight

so westward ho! for trinidad, and eastward ho! for spain
and ‘ship ahoy!’ a hundred times a day;
round the world if need be, and round the world again
with a lame duck lagging all the way
‘now up, my lads,’ the captain cried, ‘for sure the case were hard
if longest out were first to fall behind;
aloft, aloft with studding sails, and lash them on the yard
for night and day the trades are driving blind!’
so all day long and all day long behind the fleet we crept
and how we fretted none but nelson guessed;
but every night the old superb she sailed when others slept
till we ran the french to earth with all the rest

oh, ’twas westward ho! for trinidad, and eastward ho! for spain
and ‘ship ahoy!’ a hundred times a day;
round the world if need be, and round the world again
with a lame duck lagging all the way



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