 | Sea Songs |  |
64
YO, HEAVE HO.
Cheer up, mates; what though we now must leave them,
Leave wives and sweethearts, off again to go,
Let not our looks at parting still more grieve them;
They're sad enough, without our grief, we know;
Cheer up, shipmates; they may be down-hearted;
Tears were meant for women; that to all is plain;
What though a year from them we must be parted,
Chink we'll have for them, when back we come again;
Give them three cheers now, now while they can hear them;
Cheerily let our last breath to them go;
While we're afar, we'd have our last looks cheer them;
Now round, men, with a will, with, “Yo, heave ho.”
Leave wives and sweethearts, off again to go,
Let not our looks at parting still more grieve them;
They're sad enough, without our grief, we know;
Cheer up, shipmates; they may be down-hearted;
Tears were meant for women; that to all is plain;
What though a year from them we must be parted,
Chink we'll have for them, when back we come again;
Give them three cheers now, now while they can hear them;
Cheerily let our last breath to them go;
While we're afar, we'd have our last looks cheer them;
Now round, men, with a will, with, “Yo, heave ho.”
Work, lads, work; that best kills idle grieving;
What though a year from them we all must be;
Love grows with longing, so our girls we're leaving,
When next we're home but dearer looks to see;
Life's made for work and we have had our spreeing,
Every shilling's gone, so we must off for more;
Not with empty pockets we'll our girls be seeing
When our voyage is ended and we're safe ashore;
That for your croakers; let them, white as tailors,
Shake at the dangers we at sea must know;
Land-lubbers' fears, what are they to us sailors,
Now round, men, with a will, with, “Yo, heave ho.”
What though a year from them we all must be;
Love grows with longing, so our girls we're leaving,
When next we're home but dearer looks to see;
65
Every shilling's gone, so we must off for more;
Not with empty pockets we'll our girls be seeing
When our voyage is ended and we're safe ashore;
That for your croakers; let them, white as tailors,
Shake at the dangers we at sea must know;
Land-lubbers' fears, what are they to us sailors,
Now round, men, with a will, with, “Yo, heave ho.”
| Sea Songs | |