Forecastle song
In Cawsand Bay lying,
The Blue Peter flying,
The hands all turn'd up for the anchor to weigh;
There came off a lady,
As fresh as a May-day
When looking up, modestly, these words did say:
"I wants a young man there,
So do what you can there,
To hoist me a'board, or to send him to me;
His name's Harry Grady,
And I am a lady
Come off for to save him from going to sea!"
The Captain, his honour,
When he look-ed upon her,
Ran down the ship's side to assist her on board;
And he said with emotion,
"What son of the ocean
Can thus be look'd arter by Elinor Ford?"
When thus she gave answer,
"This here, is my man, sir,
I'll make him as rich and as fine as a lord!"
"That ere," said the Captain,
"Can't werry well happen,
We've got 'sailing orders'- you, sir, go on board!"
"Avast!" says the lady,
"Don't mind him, Hal Grady,
He once was your Capt'n, but now you're at large;
You shan't go aboard her,
In spite that chap's order:"
Then out from her bosom she lugg'd his discharge!
Says the Capt'n, says he, now,
"I'm damned but he's free now!"
Hal sings out "Let Weatherface have all my clothes!"
For the shore then he steer'd her,
And all the hands cheer'd her;
But the Capt'n was jealous, and look'd down his nose!
Then she got a shore tailor
To rig her young sailor
In fine nankeen trowsers and blue long-tail coat;
And he look'd like a squire
For her to admire,
With a dimity hankercher tied round his throat.
"And now," says she, "Harry,
The next thing we'll marry;"
And she look'd like a dove in his fine manly face;
"That's the thing," says Hal Grady,
"A parson get ready,
And arter a 'long-splice' we'll 'splice the main-brace.'"
Their house it was greater
Nor e'er a first-rater,
With servants in uniform handing the drink,
With a garden to go in,
Where flowers was blowin,
Sun-flower, jessamine, lily, and pink!
Then he got eddication
Just fit for his station,
For we know we arn't never too old for to larn!
And his shipmates soon found him,
With young uns around him,
All 'chips of the old block' from stem to the starn!
