THE HEART OF A TAR. ET though I've no fortune to offer, Ne'er let such a trifle as this is, Girls, be to my pleasure a bar, Besides, I'm none of your ninnies; With the kind honest heart of a tar. Your lords, with such fine baby faces, I've this here to say now, and mind it, THE JOLLY YOUNG WATERMAN. ND did you not hear of a jolly young waterman, Who at Blackfriars' bridge used for to He feather'd his oars with such skill and dexterity, What sights of fine folks he oft row'd in his wherry, 'Twas clean'd out so nice, and so painted withal: He was always first oars when the fine city ladies In a party to Ranelagh went, or Vauxhall. And oftentimes would they be giggling and leering, But 'twas all one to Tom their gibing and jeering, For loving or liking he little did care, For this waterman ne'er was in want of a fare. And yet but to see how strangely things happen, As he row'd along thinking of nothing at all, He was plied by a damsel so lovely and charming, That she smiled, and so straightway in love he did fall. And would this young damsel but banish his sorrow, He'd wed her to-night, before to-morrow; Then how should this waterman ever know care, When he's married, and never in want of a fare? THE SAILOR. |HAT girl who fain would choose a mate Should ne'er in fondness fail her, May thank her lucky stars if fate Should splice her to a sailor. He braves the storm, the battle's heat, The yellow boys to nail her; Diamonds, if diamonds she could eat, Would seek her honest sailor. If she'd be constant, still his heart If she be false, still he is kind, A butcher can provide her prog, Search round, and, if you're wise, you'll choose WHEN LAST FROM THE STRAITS. HEN last from the Straits we had fairly cast anchor, I went, bonny Kitty to hail, With quintables stored, for our voyage was a spanker, And bran new was every sail; But I knew well enough how, with words sweet as honey, They trick us poor tars of our gold, And when the sly gipsies have finger'd the money, The bag they poor Jack give to hold. So I chased her, d'ye see, my lads, under false colours, Swore my riches were all at an end, That I'd sported away all my good-looking dollars, And borrow'd my togs of a friend. O then, had you seen her! no longer "my honey," With that I took out double handfuls of shiners, "Twould have done your heart good, had you then seen her fine airs, How she'd leer, and she'd sob, and she'd sigh. But I stood well the broadside; while jewel and honey She call'd me, I put up the gold, And bearing away, as I sack'd all the money, Left the bag for Ma'am Kitty to hold. AT SEA. F tars of their money are lavish, I say, brother, take this from me, "Tis because we're not muck-worms, nor Like lubbers who ne'er go to sea. To hearties who plough the salt sea. As for cheating-light-weights and short measures, Of good fellows who plough the salt sea. 'Tis said that, with grog and our lasses, Which like horses we earn'd when at sea. In each worthy that ploughs the salt sea. |