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MY POLL AND MY PARTNER JOE.
WAS, d’ye see, a waterman,
As tight and spruce as any, Jaa
Twixt Richmond town
More than could lucky I,
With wherry tight
And bosom light I cheerfully did row;
And, to complete this princely life,
Sure never man had friend and wife
Till, woe is me!
So lubberly, The press-gang came and press'd me. How could I all these pleasures leave,
How with my wherry part? I never so took on to grieve, It wrung my very heart.
But when on board
They gave the word To foreign parts to go,
I rued the moment I was born,
That ever I should thus be torn From my Poll and my Partner Joe.
I did my duty manfully
And, night or day,
Could find my way, Blindfold, to the main-top bowling. Thus all the dangers of the main,
Quicksands, and gales of wind I braved, in hopes to taste again The joys I left behind,
In climes afar,
The hottest war,
In hopes these perils to relate,
As by my side attentive sate My Poll and my Partner Joe.
At last it pleased his Majesty
And honest hearts
From foreign parts
Now safe from all alarms)
Yet fancy not
I hore my lot Tame, like a lubber-no!
For, seeing I was fairly trick’d,
Plump to the devil I fairly kick'd My Poll and my Partner Joe.
SATURDAY NIGHT AT SEA.
at IS said we vent'rous die-hards, when we
leave the shore,
Lest we return
But this is all a'notion
Bold Jack can't understand,
Then since 'tis clear,
Howe'er we steer,
Let tempests howl,
Us jolly tars to bless,
To drink to Poll and Bess.
One seaman hands the sails, another heaves the log,
The purser swops
Our pay for slops, The landlord sells us grog:
Then each man to his station,
To keep life's ship in trim :
The rest is all a whim.
Cheerly, my hearts !
Then play your parts,
The mighty surge
May ruin urge,
Of these in spite, &c.
For all the world, just like the ropes aboard ship,
Each man's rigg'd out
A vessel stout, To take for life a trip.
The shrouds, the stays, the braces,
Are joys, and hopes, and fears;
And whim prevails,
Direct the sails,
Then let the storm
Heaven's face deform,
Of these in spite, &c.
THE FLOWING CAN.
VES SAILOR'S life's a life of woe,
He works now late, now early, Now up and down, now to and fro
What then? he takes it cheerly; Bless'd with a smiling can of grog,
If duty call,
Stand, rise, or fall,
The cadge to weigh,
The sheets belay, He does it with a wish!
To heave the lead,
Or to cat-head
For while the grog goes round,
We despise it to a man:
And swig the flowing can.
Give proof of coming danger, We view the storm, our hearts at ease,
For Jack's to fear a stranger. Blest with the smiling grog we fly,
Where now below
We headlong go,
Spite of the gale,
We hand the sail, Or take the needful reef,
Or man the deck,
To clear the wreck, To give the ship relief;
Though perils threat around,
All sense of danger drown'd, · We despise it to a man, ..
We sing a little, &c.