Sam Spritsail's a lad you'd de-light in,
For friendship he's ever a-gog,
Loves his King, loves his wench, and loves fighting,
And he loves, to be sure, his old grog!
Says Sam, "Life's but a mere notion,
That wants from the spirit a jog,
This world is a wide troubled ocean,
And the Mariner's Compass is grog!"
Chorus:
For grog is our larboard and starboard,
Our mainsail, our mizen, our log;
At sea or ashore, or when harbour'd,
The Mariner's Compass is grog!
Let grog take charge of the helm, Sir,
We'll fear not the rage of the sea,
Or if billows our ship o'erwhelm, Sir,
Still grog is the pilot for me!
Grog saves us the trouble of thinking,
So here's to each bold jolly dog,
And you who delights in good drinking,
Let's toss off a full can of grog!
Sam Spritsail loves his grog dearly,
Enraptur'd its praises he'll sing,
Yet he fights for his country most cheerly,
Loves his sweetheart and honours his King;
Sam's heart is splic'd to his Nancy's,
And his love would blaze through the fog,
Yet sailors have comical fancies,
And dear be his wench, he loves grog!
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THE MARINERS' COMPASS (original)
Sam Spritsail's a lad you'd delight in,
For friendship, he's ever agog,
Loves his King, loves his wench, loves fighting,
And he loves, to be sure he does, grog!
Says Sam, says he, life's all a notion,
And wants from the spirit a jog,
The world is a wide troubled ocean,
And our rudder and compass is grog!
Chorus:
For grog is our larboard and starboard,
Our mainsail, our mizen, our log;
At sea or at shore, or when harbour'd,
The Mariners' Compass is grog!
Let but grog take its charge of the helm,
We perceive not the dangers of sea,
Or if billows the vessel o'erwhelm,
Still grog is the pilot for me;
Since grog saves the trouble of thinking,
Then here's to each bold jolly dog,
For he that delights in good drinking,
Will toss off his full can of grog!
Sam Spritsail, though grog he lov'd dearly,
And its praise he enraptur'd would sing,
Yet he fought for his country most cheerly,
Lov'd his sweetheart and honour'd his King;
For Sam's heart was splic'd to his Nancy's,
And his mind on the wench quite agog,
Yet sailors have comical fancies,
And dear as his Nance, he loves grog!
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