WAS, d’ye see, a waterman,
As tight and spruce as any,

"Twixt Richmond town

And Horselydown
I earn'd an honest penny;
None could of Fortune's favours brag

More than could lucky I,
My cot was snug, well fill’d my cag,
My grunter in the sty.

With wherry tight

And bosom light I cheerfully did row;

And, to complete this princely life,

Sure never man had friend and wife
Like my Poll and my Partner Joe.
I roll'd in joys like these awhile,
Folks far and near caress'd me,

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
While on the billows rolling;

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, Pour'd broadsides on the foe,

In hopes these perils to relate,

As by my side attentive sate. My Poll and my Partner Joe.

At last it pleased his Majesty
To give peace to the nation,

And honest hearts

From foreign parts
Came home for consolation.
Like lightning (for I felt new life,

Now safe from all alarms)
I rush'd, and found my friend and wife
Lock'd in each other's arms!

Yet fancy not

I bore my lot Tame, like a lubberno!

For, seeing I was fairly trick’d,

Plump to the devil I fairly kick’d My Poll and my Partner Joe.


IS said we vent'rous die-hards, when we

leave the shore,
Our friends should mourn,

Lest we return
To bless their sight no more ;

But this is all a`notion

Bold Jack can't understand,
Some die upon the ocean,
And some upon the land,

Then since 'tis clear,

Howe'er we steer,
No man's life's under his command;

Let tempests howl,

And billows roll,
And dangers press :
Of these in spite, there are some joys

Us jolly tars to bless,
For Saturday night still comes, my boys,

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 :
What argufies noration ?

rest all a whim.

Cheerly, my hearts !

Then play your parts,
Boldly resolved to sink or swim;

The mighty surge

May ruin urge,
And dangers press ;

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;
The halliards, sheets, and traces,
Still, as each passion veers,

And whim prevails,

Direct the sails,
As on the sea of life he steers,

Then let the storm

Heaven's face deform,
And dangers press ;

Of these in spite, &c.


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,
To fate's last verge he'll jog :

The cadge to weigh,

The sheets belay, He does it with a wish!

To heave the lead,

Or to cat-head
The ponderous anchor fish;

For while the grog goes round,
All sense of danger drown'd,

We despise it to a man:
We sing a little, we laugh a little,
And work a little, and swear a little,
And fiddle a little, and foot it a little,

And swig the flowing can.

If howling winds and roaring seas

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,
Now rise on mountains high:

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 wn'd,
We despise it to a man,

We sing a little, &c.

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