I care not what the sailors say：
All those dreadful thunder-stones，

All that storm that blots1 the day

Can but show that Heaven yawns；

Great Europa played the fool

That changed a lover for a bull.

Fol de rol， fol de rol.

To round that shells elaborate whorl，

Adorning2 every secret track

With the delicate mother-of- pearl，

Made the joints3 of Heaven crack：

So never hang your heart upon

A roaring， ranting4 journeyman.

Fol de rol， fol de rol.