The sea’s a place for sailormen in fair or stormy weather;
‘Round the world and back again they’re all good mates together.
We went ashore on pay day night, Bill Dykes the mate, and me;
We cruised about till we got tight an’ then went on a spree.
We veered an’ hauled an’ tacked an’ beat, an’ shifted course some more,
Till we fetched up on Bleecher Street, an’ steered for Jersey shore —
An’ we wuz ridin’ even keel, consid’rin where we’d been,
Till a pair of cops put up a deal an’ tried t’ run us in.
An’ Bill, he sez: “‘Turn to’ has gone, I think I heard ‘er blow,”
An’ he winked at me, an’ I wuz on, an’ then he sez: “Les’ go!”
So Bill, he took th’ biggest one, an’ ‘course I took th’ other,
An’ s’ help me, when th’ job wuz done y’ couldn’t tell one from t’other.
Th’ port side light o’ one wuz green, an’ th’ starb’ard showin’ red,
An’ t’other wuz bleedin’ in b’tween, an’ I thought he wuz dead,
Fer I downed him cold in th’ mornin’ watch with his wood b’layin’ pin;
An’ th’ top uv his head wuz an awful splotch an’ his jaw wuz busted in.
‘N then Bill, he sez: “Tis well b’low,” an’ he cast his weather eye
Aroun’ the street, an’ he sez: “Les’ go, an’ leave th’ lubbers die.”
Two sailors rolling down the dock, and making heavy weather,
A-hoisted in with tackle and block, and into the brig together.
(Burt Franklin Jenness)
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Based on Topics: World Poems, Night Poems, Fairness Poems, Place Poems, Weather PoemsBased on Keywords: cops, ridin, sailormen, wuz, downed, busted, dykes, showin, aroun, veered, layin