168. Cawsand Bay

IN Cawsand Bay lying, with the Blue Peter flying,

And all hands on deck for the anchor to weigh,

When off came a lady, as fresh as a daisy,

And modestly hailing, the damsel did say:

‘Ship ahoy! bear a hand there! I wants a young man there,

So heave us a man-rope, or send him to me;

His name’s Henry Grady, and I am a lady,

Arrived to prevent him from going to sea.’

III

Now the captain, his honour, when he looked upon her,

He ran down the side for to hand her on board.

Cried he, with emotion, ‘What son of the ocean

Can thus be looked after by Helena Ford?’

Then the lady made answer, ‘That there is a man, sir,

I’ll make him as free as a Duke or a Lord.’—

‘Oh no!’ says the capp’en, ‘That can’t very well happen,

I’ve got sailing orders—you, sir, stop on board.’

But up spoke the lady, ‘Don’t you mind him, Hal Grady,

He once was your capp’en, but now you’re at large.

You shan’t stop on board her, for all that chap’s order!’

Then out of her bosom she drew his discharge.

Said the captain, ‘I’m hang’d now, you’re cool, and I’m bang’d now!’

Said Hal, ‘Here, old Weatherface, take all my clothes.’

And ashore then he steer’d her; the lads they all cheer’d her;

But the captain was jealous, and looked down his nose.

VII

Then she got a shore tailor to rig up her sailor

In white nankeen trowsers and long blue-tail’d coat;

And he looked like a squire, for all to admire,

With a dimity handkercher tied round his throat.

VIII

They’d a house that was greater than any first-rater,

With footmen in livery handing the drink,

And a garden to go in, where flowers were blowing,

The buttercup, daisy, the lily, the pink.

And he got edication befitting his station

(For we all of us know we’re not too old to larn);

And his messmates they found him, his little ones round him,

All chips of the old block from the stem to the starn.