At the Blackwall Docks we bid adieu
To Kate and Polly and Sal and Sue.
Our anchor's weighed and the sails unfurled,
We've bound outway across the world,
Hoorah we're outward bound,
Hoorah we're outward bound.
The wind it blows from east-nor'east,
Our ships she sails nine knots at least.
And the girls stand on the docks and cry.
While there's grog we'll ne'er say die,
Hoorah we're outward bound,
Hoorah we're outward bound.
At last the captain comes aboard,
Our sails are bent and we're manned and stored.
And the Peter's hoisted at the fore,
Goodbye to the girls we'll see no more,
Hoorah we're outward bound,
Hoorah we're outward bound.
One day the man on the lookout,
“There's a sail to the wind'ard,“ he will shout,
She's a pilot standing out from the land
And it's up on deck comes every man.
Hoorah we're homeward bound,
Hoorah we're homeward bound.
Now when we get to the Blackwall docks
Them pretty young girls come down in flocks.
And one to the other you'll hear 'em say,
“Oh, here comes Jack with his ten months pay.
For I see you're homeward bound,
I see you're homeward bound.”
And when we get to the Dog and Bell
Where there's good pizon for to sell,
In comes old Grouser with a smile,
Saying, “Drink my lads, it's worth your while,
For I see you're homeward bound,
Hoorah we're homeward bound.”
But when your money's all gone and spent,
And there's none to be borrowed and none to be lent,
In comes old Grouser with a frown,
Saying, “Get up, Jack, let John sit down,
For I see you're outward bound,
Hoorah we're outward bound.”
Then poor old Jack must understand
The ships in the docks are wanting hands.
So he ups his gear as he's done before
And he says goodbye to his native shore
For he is outward bound,
Hoorah we're outward bound.
The Old St. Kath'rine's now adieu,
Likewise to Peggy, Kate and Sure,
And Poll of Wapping Sound;
Our anchor's weigh'd, the sails unfurl'd,
And now to plough the wat'ry world,
Yeo, yea! we're outward bound.
Our anchor's weigh'd, etc.
The gale blows fresh, the wind nor-east,
Six knots an hour we feud at least,
Huzza! the shores resoud;
Our thund'ring guns again reply,
And salutations rend the sky,
Yeo, yea! we're outward bound.
Mayhap, ere far we chance to go,
Some rich galleon we'll take in tow,
And such are to be found;
Why, then each man will touch the chink,
And damme, lads like fishes drink,
Yeo yea! we're outward bound.
And should we touch at Malabar,
Or veer to foreign parts afar,
We ne'er shall lack a pound;
Our purser will our wants supply,
And while we've grog, we'll ne'er shall die,
Yeo, yea! we're outward bound.
Old England we shall see again,
Ne'er fear my hearts, and sailors, then
The girls will flock around:
And we like tars, their charms will clench,
And freely board each smiling wench,
Yeo yea! when homeward bound.