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The Seamans Song of Captain Ward the famous Pyrate of the world, and an English man born,
The tune is, The Kings going to Bulloign,
[illustration]
[illustration]
GAllants you must understand,
Captain Ward of England,
a Pyrate and a Rover on the Sea,
O, late a simple Fisherman
In the merry town of Feversham,
grows famous in the world now every day
From the Bay of Plimouth
Sailed he toward the south,
with many more of courage and of might
Christian Princes have but few
Such Seamen, if that be we were true,
and would but for his King & Country fight,
Lusty Ward adventrously;
In the straights of Barbary
did make the Turkish Gallies sore to shake
Bouncing Canons fiery hot,
Spa••en no•• the Turks one jot,
but of their lives great slaughter he did make
The Ilanders of Malta,
With Argosies upon the Sea,
most proudly braved Ward unto his face
But soon their pride was overthrown
And their treasures made his own,
and all their men brought to a woful case
The wealthy ships of Venice
Afforded him great riches
both gold & silver won he with his sword
Stately Spain and Portugal
Against him dare not bare up sail,
but gave him all the title of a Lord.
Golden seated Candy
Famous France and Italy
with all the Countries of the Eastern parts,
If once their Ships his pride withstood
They surely all were cloth'd in blood,
such cruelty was plac'd within their hearts,
The riches he hath gained,
And by blood-shed obtained
may well suffice for to maintain a King
His fellows all are valiant Wights
Fit to be made Princes Knights,
but that their lives do base dishonours bring.
This wicked gotten treasure,
Doth him but little pleasure,
the land consumes what they have got by sea
In drunkennesse and letchery,
F••lthy sins of Sodomy.
these evill gotten Goods do wast away,
Such as live by théeving,
Have seldom times good ending,
as by the déeds of Captain Ward is shown
Being drunk amongst his Drabs
His nearest friends he sometimes stabs,
such wickedness within his heart is grown
When stormy tempest riseth
The causer he despiseth,
still denies to pay unto the Lord
He feareth neither God nor the Divel,
His déeds are bad his thoughts are evil;
his only trust is still upon his sword.
Men of his own Countrey,
He still abused vilely,
some back to back are cast into the waves
Some are hewen in pieces small,
Some are shot against a wall,
a slender number of their lives he saves
Of truth it is reported
That he is strongly guarded,
by Turks that are not of a good belief,
Wit and reason tells them
He ••rusteth not his Countrey-men,
but shews the right condition of a thief,
At Tunis in Barbary
Now he buildeth stately,
a gallant Palace and a Royal place,
Decked with delights most trim,
Fitter for a Prince then him,
the which at last will prove to his disgrace.
To make the world to wonder,
This Captain is Commander
of four and twenty ships of sail,
To bring in treasure from the sea,
Into the Markets every day▪
the which the Turks do buy up without fail,
His name and state so mounteth
These Countrey men accounteth
him equal to the Nobles of that Land
But these his honours we shall find
Shortly blown up with the wind,
or prove like letters written in ye sand.
Finis.