Volume Iii Part 64 (2/2)
Yon deep bark goes Where traffic blows, From lands of sun to lands of snows;-- This happier one, Its course is run From lands of snow to lands of sun.
O happy s.h.i.+p, To rise and dip, With the blue crystal at your lip!
O happy crew, My heart with you Sails, and sails, and sings anew!
No more, no more The worldly sh.o.r.e Upbraids me with its loud uproar!
With dreamful eyes My spirit lies Under the walls of Paradise!
Thomas Buchanan Read [1822-1872]
”HOW'S MY BOY?”
”Ho, sailor of the sea!
How's my boy--my boy?”
”What's your boy's name, good wife, And in what good s.h.i.+p sailed he?”
”My boy John-- He that went to sea-- What care I for the s.h.i.+p, sailor?
My boy's my boy to me.
”You come back from sea And not know my John?
I might as well have asked some landsman Yonder down in the town.
There's not an a.s.s in all the parish But he knows my John.
”How's my boy--my boy?
And unless you let me know, I'll swear you are no sailor, Blue jacket or no, Bra.s.s b.u.t.ton or no, sailor, Anchor and crown or no!
Sure his s.h.i.+p was the Jolly Briton.”-- ”Speak low, woman, speak low!”
”And why should I speak low, sailor, About my own boy John?
If I was loud as I am proud I'd sing him o'er the town!
Why should I speak low, sailor?”
”That good s.h.i.+p went down.”
”How's my boy--my boy?
What care I for the s.h.i.+p, sailor, I never was aboard her.
Be she afloat, or be she aground, Sinking or swimming, I'll be bound, Her owners can afford her!
I say, how's my John?”
”Every man on board went down, Every man aboard her.”
”How's my boy--my boy?
What care I for the men, sailor?
I'm not their mother-- How's my boy--my boy?
Tell me of him and no other!
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