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THE HEART OF A TAR.
ET though I've no fortune to offer,
I've something to put on a par; Come, then, and accept of my proffer,
"Tis the kind honest heart of a tar.
Ne'er let such a trifle as this is,
Girls, be to my pleasure a bar,
With the kind honest heart of a tar.
Besides, I'm none of your ninnies;
The next time I come from afar, I'll give you a lap full of guineas,
With the kind honest heart of a tar.
Your lords, with such fine baby faces,
That strut in a garter and star, Have they, under their tambour and laces,
The kind honest heart of a tar?
I've this here to say now, and mind it,
If love, that no hazard can mar,
In the kind honest heart of a tar.
THE JOLLY YOUNG WATERMAN.
ND did you not hear of a jolly young
waterman, Who at Blackfriars' bridge used for to
ply? He feather’d his oars with such skill and dexterity,
Winning each heart, and delighting each eye. He look'd so neat, and he row'd so steadily, The maidens all flock'd to his boat so readily; And he eyed the young rogues with so charming an air, That this waterman ne'er was in want of a fare.
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?
HAT girl who fain would choose a mate
Should ne'er in fondness fail her,
Should splice her to a sailor.
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
She's sure will never fail her;
Still faithful is her sailor.
And, absent, does bewail her;
Still faithless to the sailor.
A butcher can provide her prog,
Three threads to drink, a tailor;
Procured her by her sailor ?
The devil sure must ail her;
To wed an honest sailor.
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,"
'Twas varlet, audacious, and bold; [money, Begone from my sight! now you've spent all your
For Kitty the bag you may hold.
And scornfully bid her good bye; '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,
Left the bag for Ma'am Kitty to hold.
F tars of their money are lavish,
I say, brother, take this from me, 'Tis because we're not muck-worms, nor
slavish, Like lubbers who ne'er go to sea. What's cunning, and such quivocation,
And them sly maneuvres to we? To be roguish is no valuation
To hearties who plough the salt sea.
As for cheating-light-weights and short measures,
And corruption, and brib'ry, d’ye see, They never embitter the pleasures
Of good fellows who plough the salt sea. You've ashore, actions, writs, cesseraries,
And regiments of counsel to fee; Jack knows not of such like vagaries
We never trust lawyers at sea.
'Tis said that, with grog and our lasses,
Because jolly sailors are free, Our money we squander like asses,
Which like horses we earn'd when at sea. But let them say this, that, or other,
In one thing they're forced to agree, Honest hearts find a friend and a brother
In each worthy that ploughs the salt sea.