SEA SONG.

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AFTER DIBDIN.


PURE water it plays a good part in
The swabbing the decks and all that—
And it finds its own level for sartin—
For it sartinly drinks very flat:—
For my part a drop of the creature
I never could think was a fault,
For if Tars should swig water by nature
The sea would have never been salt!—
Then off with it into a jorum,
And make it strong, sharpish, or sweet,
For if I’ve any sense of decorum
It never was meant to be neat!—
One day when I was but half sober,—
Half measures I always disdain—
I walk’d into a shop that sold Soda,
And ax’d for some Water Champagne;—
Well, the lubber he drew and he drew, boys,
Till I’d shipped my six bottles or more,
And blow off my last limb but it’s true, boys,
Why, I warn’t half so drunk as afore!—
Then off with it into a jorum,
And make it strong, sharpish, or sweet,
For if I’ve any sense of decorum
It never was meant to be neat.

A BOTTLE JACK.

Black man in white trousers
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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