 | The select poems of Dr. Thomas Dunn English (exclusive of the "Battle lyrics") |  |
THE BALLAD OF BILL MAGEE.
He was a skillful mariner,
A weather-beaten man,
The master of the oyster sloop
They call the Sally Ann.
A weather-beaten man,
The master of the oyster sloop
They call the Sally Ann.
Not rendered vile by oysters, nor
Demoralized by clams,
He was a strictly moral man,
And sang no songs but psalms.
Demoralized by clams,
He was a strictly moral man,
And sang no songs but psalms.
And, if he used hard words at times,
His language, it is plain,
Was garnished then with expletives,
And not at all profane.
His language, it is plain,
Was garnished then with expletives,
And not at all profane.
I asked of this old mariner,
Whose name was Bill Magee,
To tell me some adventure strange,
That happened him at sea.
Whose name was Bill Magee,
To tell me some adventure strange,
That happened him at sea.
519
This hardy seaman stood him up,
Close by the ship's caboose,
And laid his quid upon its roof,
To serve for further use.
Close by the ship's caboose,
And laid his quid upon its roof,
To serve for further use.
He hitched his trowsers right and left,
Glanced upward at the sail,
And hawked and spat and pucked his lips,
And then began his tale.
Glanced upward at the sail,
And hawked and spat and pucked his lips,
And then began his tale.
“'Twas on the twenty-fourth of June,
In the year of seventy-one,
About two hours, or thereabouts,
Before the set of sun.
In the year of seventy-one,
About two hours, or thereabouts,
Before the set of sun.
“Our stately vessel spread her sail,
Down Hudson making way,
To stem the dangers of the Kill,
And venture Newark Bay.
Down Hudson making way,
To stem the dangers of the Kill,
And venture Newark Bay.
“We kept her off the Palisades
That we a breeze might find,
And partly that as moral men
Fort Lee we'd leave behind.
That we a breeze might find,
And partly that as moral men
Fort Lee we'd leave behind.
“For oh! that is a wicked place,
And given to beer and sin—
They slew St. Mary Parish there
By pi'sonin' her gin.
And given to beer and sin—
They slew St. Mary Parish there
By pi'sonin' her gin.
“Sow-west by sow from Castle P'int,
At seven knots we ran,
When White, the black, our cook came up
With lobscouse in a pan.
At seven knots we ran,
When White, the black, our cook came up
With lobscouse in a pan.
520
“Its smell upon our noses smote,
The Mate he smacked his lips;
But White grew blacker as he cried—
‘What's that among them ships?’
The Mate he smacked his lips;
But White grew blacker as he cried—
‘What's that among them ships?’
“A snort, a roar, a flood of foam,
The fretted water's gleam
As though some huge torpedo boat
Were comin' up the stream.
The fretted water's gleam
As though some huge torpedo boat
Were comin' up the stream.
“And as it came I felt my heart
Within my body quake;
There from Nahant, on a Summer jaunt,
I saw the great sea-snake.
Within my body quake;
There from Nahant, on a Summer jaunt,
I saw the great sea-snake.
“It raised its head, its crimson mouth
It opened good and wide;
You might have driven within the gap
Seven clam-carts side by side.
It opened good and wide;
You might have driven within the gap
Seven clam-carts side by side.
“Two eyes as big as oyster-kegs
Glared at us in the beast;
And under these a pair of jaws
Four rods in width at least.
Glared at us in the beast;
And under these a pair of jaws
Four rods in width at least.
“We could not scream, we could not stir,
For help we could not call;
And the sarpent opened wide his mouth,
And swallowed us, mast and all.
For help we could not call;
And the sarpent opened wide his mouth,
And swallowed us, mast and all.
“Round keel and topmost choked his jaws,
We felt the muscles draw,
As he sucked us down his slimy throat,
And lodged us in his maw.”
We felt the muscles draw,
As he sucked us down his slimy throat,
And lodged us in his maw.”
521
Bill shuddered at the memory,
His face grew deadly pale;
He hitched his trowsers dreamily,
And so he closed his tale.
His face grew deadly pale;
He hitched his trowsers dreamily,
And so he closed his tale.
“How got you out of the serpent's maw?”
I asked the mariner then;
He took up his quid, and sadly said—
“We never got out again!”
I asked the mariner then;
He took up his quid, and sadly said—
“We never got out again!”
| The select poems of Dr. Thomas Dunn English (exclusive of the "Battle lyrics") | |