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SEA SONGS. |
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" Now—now—at his side,
Give him one through his hide ! " Down he goes; how he leaves the sea boiling!
Oh, there's never a game
Tou landsmen can name With the sport that is known to a sailor;
There's never a chase
On the land but gives place To the hunt that we know from a whaler.
" Back oars ;—let it run ;
" He must soon see the sun ; " What a pace the black spouter is going!
" He's up, boys, for air;
" Plant another spear there ; " Quick ;— another harpoon, mate, be throwing ;
" That—that was the trick j
" Of such tickling he's sick ; " Down he plunges again in a hurry;
" The blood that must be
" Of his life on the sea ; " Starn all; 'ware his parting death flurry ! ,:
Oh, there's never a game
You landsmen can name With the sport that is known to a sailor ;
There's never a chase
On the land but gives place To the hunt that we know from a whaler. A |
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