University of Virginia Library

WHITEHAVEN HARBOUR

O, can't she? Listen! There's a volley!
Stand to your guns, my Ipswich boy!
Chain-shot ahoy!
“Ah, ain't she jolly”
(Young Ipswich telegraphing
To us upon the quay)!
“Some credit chaffing
With her!” Decidedly—
“The gen'lemen are looking.” Yes, we are,
My noble Ipswich tar—
“Ain't her eyes brown?”
(Says telegraph)
“Ah, can't she laugh?
And ain't she all so nice and pert?”
Yes, yes! stand up and flirt!
Flirt for the honour of your native town!
Flirt! flirt! my man of Ipswich. Not so bad!
A good sufficient lad!
See how the strong young hearts
Dance to the tongue-tips; lightning darts
From eye to eye:
The maiden is not shy!
See the two Manxmen on the schooner there,
Who stare
With all their souls in silent admiration
Of such a very excellent flirtation!
Quite out of it—
Those Manxmen—wait a bit—
Poor fellows! Shall we hail them? No?
Ah well, let's go.