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I that once was plowman, a Saylor am now. Ho lark that aloft in the sky Ever fluttered his wings to give speed to the plow was so gay or as cheerful as I unclear my friend was a uncear on board a Kings Ship And asked me to go just to sea for a Trip

   and he talked of such things, Thus saylors were Kings.
   and so teasing and keep and so teasing and keep
   thus I left my poor plough to go ploughing

No longer the horn, call me up the morn

                                       & the unconstant wind
   that made me for to go & leave my deer behind 
   I did not much like to be a board s Ship
       where in danger ther is no dore to creep out
   I like this jolly Tar? like good