. Salt-water poems and ballads. as the watch they stood,Drake an Blake, an Collingwood an Jervis, Nelson, Rodney, Hawke, an Howe an a hard time, haulin an directin, Theres the flag they left us, Billy — treadStraight an keep it flyin — recollectin, Yonders Cape St. Vincent and the Dead. THE TARRY BUCCANEER Im going to be a pirate with a bright brass pivot-gun,And an island in the Spanish Main beyond the setting sun,And a silver flagon full of red wine to drink when work a fine old salt-sea scavenger, like a tarry Buc-caneer. With a sandy creek to careen in, and a pig-tai
. Salt-water poems and ballads. as the watch they stood,Drake an Blake, an Collingwood an Jervis, Nelson, Rodney, Hawke, an Howe an a hard time, haulin an directin, Theres the flag they left us, Billy — treadStraight an keep it flyin — recollectin, Yonders Cape St. Vincent and the Dead. THE TARRY BUCCANEER Im going to be a pirate with a bright brass pivot-gun,And an island in the Spanish Main beyond the setting sun,And a silver flagon full of red wine to drink when work a fine old salt-sea scavenger, like a tarry Buc-caneer. With a sandy creek to careen in, and a pig-tailed Spanish mate,And under my main-hatches a sparkling merry freightOf doubloons and double moidores and pieces of eight,Like a fine old salt-sea scavenger, like a tarry Buc-caneer. With a taste for Spanish wine-shops and for spendingmy doubloons. And a crew of swart mulattoes and black-eyed octo-roons. And a thoughtful way with mutineers of making themmaroons. Like a fine old salt-sea scavenger, like a tarry Buc-caneer. 62. I must down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied j And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying, And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying. THE TARRY BUCCANEER 63 With a sash of crimson velvet and a diamond-hilted sword,And a silver whistle about my neck secured to a golden cord,And a habit of taking captives and walking them alonga a fine old salt-sea scavenger, like a tarry Buc-caneer. With a spy-glass tucked beneath my arm and a cockedhat cocked askew. And a long low rakish schooner a-cutting of the wavesin two. And a flag of skull and cross-bones the wickedest thatever a fine old salt-sea scavenger, like a tarry Buc-caneer. J A BALLAD OF JOHN SILVER We were schooner-rigged and rakish, with a long and lissome hull,And we flew the pretty colours of the cross-bones and the skull;Wed a big black Jolly Roger flapping grimly at t
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Keywords: ., bookauthormasefiel, bookcentury1900, bookdecade1910, bookyear1916
