Now o’er the deep the wind blows fresh and free,
And hope beams joyful in the settler’s eye;
Madeira’s isle lies westward on the lee,
And San Antonio rears his steep cliffs high,
And dolphins sparkle in the dark blue sea,
And milk-white clouds bedeck the azure sky.
“Captain, ’tis said the climate is as fine
In New South Wales, as far beyond the Line.”
“It may be so,” the captain coldly said,
Repelling converse as he paced the deck,
With thoughtful eye, and hurried, anxious tread:
(‘Tis his to guard the ship from foe or wreck).
Observant of the heavens, he bends his head
To the far east to view yon small white speck –
“Let go the haulyards! yo! brail up the mizen!
Luff, luff, boys, luff! the white squall has arisen!
“Clew up the mainsail! yo, heave yo! Yo! Belay!
The fore top-gallant mast’s gone, yard and all!
Yo! bear a hand, boys! clear the wreck away;
Don’t let her lose more sticks in this here squall!
Heave yo! Yo! Mind your starboard helm I say;
Don’t let her sheer of! Yo! Keep your helm small;
Belay the foretopsail! Boatswain! avast that bawling!
‘Tis off, d’ye see, now! Ladies, no more squalling!”
(John Dunmore Lang)
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Based on Topics: Mind PoemsBased on Keywords: clew, boatswain, antonio, madeira, luff, squalling, repelling, avast, mainsail, belay, top-gallant