The tune, lyrics and notes from Whall's Ships, Sea Songs and Shanties:

X:1
T:La Pique
M:3/4
L:1/4
B:W.B. Whall, Ships, Sea Songs and Shanties, 3rd ed. (James Brown, 1913, pp. 20-21)
K:C
HE/ D/|C C C|C HE D|D C C|HC2 G|
w:O, 'tis of a fine fri-gate, La Pique was her name, All
G E G|A/B/ Hc B|{c/}A G G|HG2 G|
w:in the West In - dies she bore a great name: For
G E G|A/B/ Hc B|A G E D2 E|
w:cru-el bad us - age of ev-'ry de-gree, Like
F G A|G E C|D C C|HC2|]
w:slaves in the gal-ley we ploughed the salt sea.

O, 'tis of a fine frigate, La Pique was her name,
All in the West Indies she bore a great name:
For cruel bad usage of ev'ry degree,
Like slaves in the galley we ploughed the salt sea.

Now at four in the morning our work does begin,
In our 'twixt decks and cock-pit a bucket might swim,
Our fore and main topmen so loud-ly do bawl,
For sand and for holystones both great and small.

Our decks being washed down and swabbed up quite dry,
It's lash up your hammicks our boatswain does cry;
Our hammicks being lasht up black clews and black shows,
It's "all the world over, and over she goes."

Now, Mister Macliver, you knows him quite well,
He comes upon deck and he cuts a great swell;
It's damn your eyes here and it's damn your eyes there,
And strait to the gangway he takes a broad sheer.

Our di-vision officer now takes his rounds,
Not a hole or a spot on your clothes must be found,
For an hour or more in this form we must be,
Our ropes flemished down both in port sand at sea.

Divisions being over the next thing comes on,
Jack of Clubs now is calling for swabs in his song.
Three or four dry swabs then each cook they must find,
And the bright copper hoops on our mess-kids must shine.

Our pikes and cutlashes are bright as the sun,
Our shot-racks are copper boys every one,
Our pomelins and handspikes, belaying pins also,
With our bright iron stanchions we cut a fine show.

And now look aloft, my boys, every one,
All hands to make sail going large is the song,
From under two reefs in our topsails we lie,
Like a cloud all our sails in a moment must fly.

And now, my brave boys, comes the best of the fun,
It's hands about ship and reef topsails in one;
So it's lay aloft, topmen, as the hellum goes down,
And clew down your topsails as the mainyard goes round.

Trice up and lay out and take two reefs in one,
In a moment of time all this work must be done,
So it's man your head braces, your halliards and all,
And hoist away topsails at "Let go and haul."

Now, your quids of tobacco I'd have you to mind,
If you spits upon deck it's your death warrant signed,
If you spits over bow, over gangway, or starn,
You're sure of three dozen just by way of no harm.

So, now, brother sailors, wherever you be,
From all fancy frigates I'd have you keep free,
For they'll haze you and work you till you ain't worth a damn,
And send you half dead to your dear native land.

Notes:
   Verse 3-- "Black shows": I do not know the meaning of this unless it refers to the number painted on each hammock. "All the world over," etc., seems to have been some naval saying now obsolte. Alternate verse three ran--

       "Seven turns with your lashings so equal must show,
       And all of one size through the hoop they must go."

Each hammock had to be so tightly lashed as to pass through the regulation hoop.
   Verse 7-- "Pomelins," or "pomellions," was Jack's name for the cascable, or knob on the breech of a cannon: it is from the French.
   Verses 9, 10-- A very favourite evolution in old sailing days in all navies. "Trice up" refers to the studding sail booms, which had to triced up so that the men could "lay out" on the yards.

There's an illustration of H.M.S. Pique in Whall's book (p. 16), whose caption is: "From a print by Brierly. She was a 36-gun frigate, named after a French prize captured by H.M.S. Blanche. The date of the song here given is probably about 1838, at which date the Pique was notorious for 'smartness.'"