Fifty "Bab" ballads, much sound and little sense . , Bob, and Billy dare not flouthim ;He argued high, he argued low, He also argued round about him. Ha, ha! he said, you loathe writhe at these my words of warning. SIR MACKLIN. 47 In agony your hands you raise. (And so they did, for they were yawning.) To Twenty-firstly on they go, The lads do not attempt to scout him ; He argued high, he argued low,He also argued round about him. Ho, ho ! he cries, you bow your crests—My eloquence has set you weeping ; In shame you bend upon your breasts ! (And so they did, for they were sleeping
Fifty "Bab" ballads, much sound and little sense . , Bob, and Billy dare not flouthim ;He argued high, he argued low, He also argued round about him. Ha, ha! he said, you loathe writhe at these my words of warning. SIR MACKLIN. 47 In agony your hands you raise. (And so they did, for they were yawning.) To Twenty-firstly on they go, The lads do not attempt to scout him ; He argued high, he argued low,He also argued round about him. Ho, ho ! he cries, you bow your crests—My eloquence has set you weeping ; In shame you bend upon your breasts ! (And so they did, for they were sleeping.) He proved them this—he proved them that—This good but wearisome ascetic ; He jumped and thumped upon his hat,He was so very energetic. His Bishop at this moment chanced To pass, and found the road encumbered; He noticed how the Churchman danced,And how his congregation slumbered. 48 THE bab ballads. The hundred and eleventh head The priest completed of his stricture; Oh, bosh ! the worthy Bishop said,And walked him off as in the THE YARN OF THE NANCY BELL.* 49 THE YARN OF THE NANCY BELL:* TwAS on the shores that round our coast From Deal to Ramsgate span,That I found alone on a piece of stone An elderly naval man. His hair was weedy, his beard was long, And weedy and long was he,And I heard this wight on the shore recite, In a singular minor key: Oh, I am a cook and a captain bold,And the mate of the Nancy brig. And a bosun tight, and a midshipmite,And the crew of the captains gig. • A version of this ballad is published as a song,by Mr. Jeffreys, Soho Square. 50 THE BAB BALLADS. And he shook his fists and he tore his hair. Till I really felt afraid,For I couldnt help thinking the man hadbeen drinking, And so I simply said : Oh, elderly man, its little I knowOf the duties of men of the sea, And Ill eat my hand if I understandHowever you can be At once a cook, and a captain the mate of the Nancy brig, And a bosun tight, and a midshipmite,And the cre
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