University of Virginia Library

III.

Now we hadn't got far away from land
(Heave at the windlass, heave ho! cheerily)
When a Mermaid rose with a glass in her hand,
And our ship hove to for to hail her.
Says she, ‘Each wessel that looks on me,
Man-o'-war, merchantman, or whaler,
Must sink right down to the bottom of the sea,
Where the dog-fish flies and the sea-snakes flee,
Unless a Wirgin on board there be
To plead for the life of a Sailor!’
CHORUS.
Heave at the windlass! yeo heave ho!
Up with the anchor! away we go!
The wind's off the shore, boys,—let it blow,—
Hurrah for the life of a Sailor!
Yeo—ho!