SPANISH LADIES (Traditional English Capstan Shanty) Farewell and adieu to you fine Spanish ladies, Farwell and adieu all you ladies of Spain; For we've received orders to sail for old England; And perhaps we shall never more see you again. Chorus: We'll rant and we'll roar like true British sailors, We'll range and we'll roam over all the salt seas, Until we strike soundings in the Channel of old England, From Ushant to Scilly 'tis thirty-five leagues. Then we hove our ship to, with the wind at sou'-west, my boys, Then we hove our ship to, for to strike soundings clear; Then we filled the main topsail and bore right away, my boys, And straight up the Channel of old England did steer. Chorus So the first land we made it is called the Deadman, Next Ram Head off Plymouth, Start, Portland and the Wight; We sailed hy Beachy, by Fairly and Dungeness, And then bore away for the South Foreland light. Chorus Now the signal it was made for the Grand Fleet to anchor, All on the Downs that night for to meet; Then stand by your stoppers, see clear your shank-painters, Haul all your clew garnets, stick out tacks and sheets. Chorus Now let every man drink up his full bottle, Let every man drink up his full bowl; For we will be jolly and drown melancholy, With a health to each jovial and true-hearted soul. Chorus ***** SPANISH LADIES (The Yankee Version - Adapted by Roger Chartier) Farewell and adieu to you fair Spanish ladies Farewell and adieu to you ladies of Spain For we've received orders to sail to New Bedford And perhaps we shall never more see you again. Chorus: We'll rant and we'll roar like true Yankee sailors We'll rant and we'll rave across the salt sea Till we strike soundings in the harbor of New Bedford Nantucket to home is just a few leagues We hove our ship to with the wind at the sou'west boys We hove our ship to for to take soundings clear In fifty five fathoms with a fine sandy bottom We filled main tops'l up channel did steer We'll rant and we'll roar like true Yankee sailors We'll rant and we'll rave across the salt sea Till we strike soundings in the harbor of New Bedford Great Point to home is just a few leagues The first land we made was a place called Nantucket Martha's Vinyard, Woods Hole then down Buzzards Bay We sailed then by Marion, Mattapoisett, and Fairhaven Then bore straight away for New Bedford, hooray We'll rant and we'll roar like true Yankee sailors We'll rant and we'll rave across the salt sea Till we strike soundings in the harbor of New Bedford The Vinyard to home is just a few leagues Now the Captain called out for our grand ship 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 We'll rant and we'll roar like true Yankee sailors We'll rant and we'll rave across the salt sea Till we strike soundings in the harbor of New Bedford Woods Hole to home is just a few leagues 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 And drink a health to each jovial and true hearted soul We'll rant and we'll roar like true Yankee sailors We'll rant and we'll rave across the salt sea Till we strike soundings in the harbor of New Bedford West Island to home is just a few leagues.