Lyrics:

Our boat, she's on a drift
And our ship, she's on the waves
Farewell my dearest jewel
For no longer can I stay

Our ship, she lies awaiting
So fare you well, my dear
For I must go on board
Of this bold privateer

There's no-one there can tell you
What great hazards you will run
So many have been slain
Since the wars first begun

Such bloody engagements
And dangers that draw near
With loss of their sweet lives
In this bold privateer

Grieve not, my dearest jewel
When I'm out of your sweet sight
For I must go on board
And so boldly I will fight

We'll beat down the pride
Of the lofty monaseer*
And soon we'll let them know
She's a bold privateer

Then since you are a-going
May heaven kinder be
May kind heaven protect you
By land or by sea

May kind heaven protect you
Wherever you may steer
And send you safe home back
From this bold privateer

The prizes we have taken
Are from France and from Spain
And my true love at home
Will have part of them the same

And when the wars are over
I'll turn unto my dear
And then I'll bid adieu
To this bold privateer

Oh, when the wars are over
I'll turn unto my dear
And then I'll bid adieu
To this bold privateer

*“Monaseer” is late 18th / early 19th-century slang for a Frenchman, from “monsieur”. The Dutch were similarly known as “Monheers” (or “butterboxes”!) The English have a habit of genially mangling the pronunciation of their enemies' names - the Indian Prince Sirauj-ad Daula was known to the troops as “Sir Roger Dowler” for example.