They'll give him leave, if you ask 'em and say it's business o'

mine.

I built three boats for the Maoris, an' very well pleased they

were,

An' I've known Mac since the Fifties, and Mac knew me

and her.

After the first stroke warned me I sent him the money to keep Against the time you'd claim it, committin' your dad to the

deep;

For you are the son o' my body, and Mac was my oldest friend,

I've never asked 'im to dinner, but he 'll see it out to the end. Stiff-necked Glasgow beggar, I've heard he's prayed for my

soul,

But he could n't lie if you paid him, and he'd starve before he stole!

He'll take the Mary in ballast - you'll find her a lively

ship;

And you 'll take Sir Anthony Gloster, that goes on 'is wedding

trip,

Lashed in our old deck-cabin with all three port-holes wide, The kick o' the screw beneath him and the round blue seas out

side!

Sir Anthony Gloster's carriage - our 'ouse-flag flyin' freeTen thousand men on the pay-rool and forty freighters at

sea!

He made himself and a million, but this world is a fleetin'

show,

And he'll go to the wife of 'is bosom the same as he ought to

By the heel of the Paternosters - there is n't a chance to mistake

And Mac 'll pay you the money as soon as the bubbles break! Five thousand for six weeks' cruising, the stanchest freighter

afloat,

And Mac he'll give you your bonus the minute I'm out o' the boat!

He'll take you round to Macassar, and you'll come back

alone;

He knows what I want o' the Mary.

with my own.

Your mother 'ud call it wasteful, but I've seven-and-thirty

more;

I'll come in my private carriage and bid it wait at the

door. . .

For my son 'e was never a credit: 'e muddled with books and

art,

And 'e lived on Sir Anthony's money and 'e broke Sir Anthony's heart.

There is n't even a grandchild, and the Gloster family's

done

The only one you left me, O mother, the only one!

Harrer and Trinity College-me slavin' early an' late — An' he thinks I'm dying crazy, and you're in Macassar Strait!

Flesh o' my flesh, my dearie, for ever an' ever amen,

That first stroke come for a warning; I ought to ha' gone to you then.

But cheap repairs for a cheap 'un- the doctors said I'd do:

Mary, why didn't you warn me? I've allus heeded to you, Excep' I know about women; but you are a spirit now; An', wife, they was only women, and I was a man. That's

how.

An' a man 'e must go with a woman, as you could not understand;

But I never talked 'em secrets. I paid 'em out o' hand.

Thank Gawd, I can pay for my fancies! Now what's five thousand to me,

For a berth off the Paternosters in the haven where I would be?

I believe in the Resurrection, if I read my Bible plain,

But I wouldn't trust 'em at Wokin'; we're safer at sea

again.

For the heart it shall go with the treasure

go down to the

sea in ships. I'm sick of the hired women I'll kiss my girl on her lips! I'll be content with my fountain, I'll drink from my own well, And the wife of my youth shall charm me

go to Hell!

an' the rest can

(Dickie, he will, that's certain.) I'll lie in our standin'-bed, An' Mac'll take her in ballast an' she trims best by the

Down by the head an' sinkin', her fires are drawn and cold, And the water's splashin' hollow on the skin of the empty

hold

Churning an' choking and chuckling, quiet and scummy and dark

Full to her lower hatches and risin' steady. Hark!

That was the after-bulkhead. . . . She's flooded from stem

Never seen death yet, Dickie? . . . Well, now is your time to learn!

THE BALLAD OF "THE BOLIVAR "

1890

SEVEN men from all the world back to Docks again,
Rolling down the Ratcliffe Road drunk and raising Cain:
Give the girls another drink 'fore we sign away -
We that took the "Bolivar " out across the Bay!

We put out from Sunderland loaded down with rails;
We put back to Sunderland 'cause our cargo shifted;
We put out from Sunderland - met the winter gales
Seven days and seven nights to the Start we drifted.

Racketing her rivets loose, smoke-stack white as snow,
All the coals adrift adeck, half the rails below,
Leaking like a lobster-pot, steering like a dray -
Out we took the Bolivar, out across the Bay!

One by one the Lights came up, winked and let us by;
Mile by mile we waddled on, coal and fo'c'sle short;
Met a blow that laid us down, heard a bulkhead fly;
Left The Wolf behind us with a two-foot list to port.

Trailing like a wounded duck, working out her soul;
Clanging like a smithy-shop after every roll;

Just a funnel and a mast lurching through the spray-
So we threshed the Bolivar out across the Bay!

Felt her hog and felt her sag, betted when she'd break; Wondered every time she raced if she'd stand the shock; Heard the seas like drunken men pounding at her strake; Hoped the Lord 'ud keep his thumb on the plummer-block. Banged against the iron decks, bilges choked with coal; Flayed and frozen foot and hand, sick of heart and soul; Last we prayed she 'd buck herself into Judgment Day — Hi! we cursed the Bolivar knocking round the Bay!

O her nose flung up to sky, groaning to be still ·

Up and down and back we went, never time for breath; Then the money paid at Lloyd's caught her by the heel,

And the stars ran round and round dancin' at our death!

Aching for an hour's sleep, dozing off between ;
Heard the rotten rivets draw when she took it green;
Watched the compass chase its tail like a cat at play -
That was on the Bolivar, south across the Bay.

Once we saw between the squalls, lyin' head to swell
Mad with work and weariness, wishin' they was we
Some damned Liner's lights go by like a grand hotel;
Cheered her from the Bolivar swampin' in the sea.

Then a greyback cleared us out, then the skipper laughed; "Boys, the wheel has gone to Hell - rig the winches aft! "Yoke the kicking rudder-head — get her under way!" So we steered her, pully-haul, out across the Bay!

Just a pack o' rotten plates puttied up with tar,
In we came, an' time enough, 'cross Bilbao Bar.
Overloaded, undermanned, meant to founder, we

Euchred God Almighty's storm, bluffed the Eternal Sea!

Seven men from all the world back to town again,
Rollin' down the Ratcliffe Road drunk and raising Cain:
Seven men from out of Hell. Ain't the owners gay,
'Cause we took the "Bolivar " safe across the Bay?

THE BALLAD OF THE "CLAMPHERDOWN"

1892

It was our war-ship Clampherdown

Would sweep the Channel clean,
Wherefore she kept her hatches close
When the merry Channel chops arose,
To save the bleached Marine.

She had one bow-gun of a hundred ton,
And a great stern-gun beside;

They dipped their noses deep in the sea,
They racked their stays and stanchions free
In the wash of the wind-whipped tide.

It was our war-ship Clampherdown
Fell in with a cruiser light

That carried the dainty Hotchkiss gun
And a pair of heels wherewith to run
From the grip of a close-fought fight.

She opened fire at seven miles -
As ye shoot at a bobbing cork -
And once she fired and twice she fired,
Till the bow-gun drooped like a lily tired
That lolls upon the stalk.