As in the good ship Annabel

We coasted off Corfu,

A sudden storm upon us fell,

And tore our timbers true

And rent our sails in two.

Our top-mast tumbled by the board,

Our mizeh-mast as well;

Through flapping canvas, scourging cord,

Above like our death-bell—

We hear the thunder knell.

"Now cut away!" our Captain cries,

"And like a cork she floats;"

But axe in hand, with scowling eyes,

Set teeth and cursing throats,

The Lascars loose the boats.

When Johnny Cox, who lay below,

From off his fever-bed,

Comes staggering up, a ghastly show

As if from out the dead,

And drives them back in dread.

"What! quit your posts, ye cowards all?

Here's ballast then for you!"

With that he heaves a cannon-ball

Full crash the cutler through,

And saves the ship and crew.

But he, our hero, ere the rocks

We rounded, drooped and died;

And we should lower you, Johnny Cox,

Lamenting o'er the side—

Into the moaning tide.

——A. P. Graves.