We Be Three Poor Mariners

We be three poor mariners, newly come from the seas,
We spend our lives in jeopardy, while others live at ease.
Shall we go dance the Round, around, around?
Shall we go dance the Round, around, around?
Come, pledge me on this ground, aground, aground!

We care not for those martial men that do our states disdain;
But we care for those merchantmen that do our states maintain.
Shall we dance this Round, around, around?
Shall we dance this Round, around, around?
And he that is a bully boy
Come, pledge me on this ground, aground, aground!

From An American Sailor's Treasury by Frank Shay (1991)