Now, if ye want a merchant ship to sail the seas at large; Ye'll not have any trouble if ye have a good discharge, Signed by the Board o' Trade an' ev'rything exact, For there's nothing done on a Limejuice ship contrary to the Act.
So haul, boys, yer weather main brace, an' ease away yer lee, Hoist jibs an' tops'ls, lads, an' let the ship go free, Hurrah, boys, hurrah! We'll sing this Jubilee, Damn an' beggar the Navy, boys, a merchant ship's for me!
Now, when ye join a merchant ship ye'll hear yer Articles read, They'll tell ye of yer beef an' pork, yer butter an' yer bread, Yer sugar, tea, an' coffee, boys, yer peas an' beans exact, Yer limejuice an' vinegar, boys, according to the Act. No watch an' watch the first day out, according to the Act, Ten days out we all lay aft to get our limejuice whack, Fetch out the handy-billy, boys, an' clap it on the tack, For we're gonna set that mains'l, oh, accordin' to the Act. It's up the deck, me bully boys, wid many a curse we go, Awaitin' to hear eight bells struck that we may go below, The watch is called, eight bells is struck, an' the log is hove exact. Relieve the wheel an' go below, according to the Act.

The Merchant Seamen Act of 1844 already required British merchant ships to carry lime juice, and bound masters to serve it out once the crew had been ten days on salt provisions. The Merchant Shipping Act of 1867 tightened the rule: from 1868, lime or lemon juice and sugar were to be served daily, an ounce of each per man, “so soon as they have been at Sea for Ten Days.” The Merchant Shipping Act of 1894, often wrongly credited with the rule, only consolidated it. The ration gave American sailors their nickname for British ships and sailors: limejuicers, and later, limeys.

This sarcastic British forebitter, says Stan Hugill, quickly emerged to poke fun at the Act.