To leave my dear girl, my country, and friends,
And roam o'er the ocean, where toil never ends;
To mount the high yards, when the whistle shall sound,
Amidst the wild winds as they bluster around!
My heart aches to think on't, but still I must go,
For duty now calls me to face the proud foe:
And so to my Winny I must bid adieu,
In hopes when I'm gone she will think of Ned Pugh.

That still she will think she is near to my heart,
Tho' far from each other, alas! We must part,
That next to my duty, my thoughts she will share,
My love and my glory both centre in her!
And should I return with some hits from Mountseer,
I know I shall meet with a smile and a tear;
Or if I should fall then dear Winny adieu!
I know when I'm gone you'll remember Ned Pugh.