 | City Festivals |  |
THE SPECTRE WHALE.
I'll spin you a tale of a spectre whale
That lives in the northern seas:
By night and day he swims, they say,
Wherever he haps to please.
He haunts a ship all through her trip,
Till stabbed by a luckless crew,
And then away, in the mist and spray,
He tows them out of view.
That lives in the northern seas:
By night and day he swims, they say,
Wherever he haps to please.
He haunts a ship all through her trip,
Till stabbed by a luckless crew,
And then away, in the mist and spray,
He tows them out of view.
Then it's good-bye, shipmates,
A thousand leagues you'll sail;
Sing—hey—shipmates,
You've caught the spectre whale!
A thousand leagues you'll sail;
Sing—hey—shipmates,
You've caught the spectre whale!
I'll weep you a song of Captain Strong,
A seaman tall and bold;
He swore he would slay that fish some day,
And boil him in the hold.
But just as soon as the first harpoon
Within his flesh was set,
They started away for Nowhere Bay,
And maybe are sailing yet.
A seaman tall and bold;
He swore he would slay that fish some day,
And boil him in the hold.
But just as soon as the first harpoon
Within his flesh was set,
They started away for Nowhere Bay,
And maybe are sailing yet.
Then good-bye, shipmates,
Your friends they wonder and wail;
Swim—fly—shipmates,
You're caught by the spectre whale!
Your friends they wonder and wail;
Swim—fly—shipmates,
You're caught by the spectre whale!
I'll laugh you a song of Peter Long,
A first mate short was he;
He swore if he'd fail to catch the whale,
That Satan's he would be!
But first we knew, it opened to view
Its mouth so wide and strong,
And caught him fast, and that was the last
We saw of Peter Long.
A first mate short was he;
He swore if he'd fail to catch the whale,
That Satan's he would be!
But first we knew, it opened to view
Its mouth so wide and strong,
And caught him fast, and that was the last
We saw of Peter Long.
113
Then good-bye, shipmates,
You'll take a Jonah-sail;
Soft lie, shipmate,
Your berth, the spectre whale!
You'll take a Jonah-sail;
Soft lie, shipmate,
Your berth, the spectre whale!
I'll heave you a word of Nicholas Bird,
A foc'sle liar was he—
Showed part of the tail of the ghost's own whale
That he killed in '53.
He finally said, “When I am dead
My ghost will give him a try,
And that I say is the only way
The spectre fish can die.”
A foc'sle liar was he—
Showed part of the tail of the ghost's own whale
That he killed in '53.
He finally said, “When I am dead
My ghost will give him a try,
And that I say is the only way
The spectre fish can die.”
Then fare you well, shipmate,
For if you did not lie,
Too much truth to tell, shipmate,
Is just as bad, or nigh.
For if you did not lie,
Too much truth to tell, shipmate,
Is just as bad, or nigh.
We grappled the man by a sudden plan
(A struggling fish was he)!
And, begging his ghost to perform its boast,
Flung Nicholas in the sea.
And oft at night he is seen by the light
Of the miracle-loving moon,
To chase the whale, through calm or gale,
With the ghost of his old harpoon.
(A struggling fish was he)!
And, begging his ghost to perform its boast,
Flung Nicholas in the sea.
And oft at night he is seen by the light
Of the miracle-loving moon,
To chase the whale, through calm or gale,
With the ghost of his old harpoon.
Then good-bye, shipmate,
And if your ghost should fail
Itself to die, shipmate,
Perhaps you'll catch the whale.
And if your ghost should fail
Itself to die, shipmate,
Perhaps you'll catch the whale.
| City Festivals | |