Written by
John Masefield |
OH some are fond of red wine, and some are fond of white,
And some are all for dancing by the pale moonlight;
But rum alone's the tipple, and the heart's delight
Of the old bold mate of Henry Morgan.
Oh some are fond of Spanish wine, and some are fond of French,
And some'll swallow tay and stuff fit only for a wench;
But I'm for right Jamaica till I roll beneath the bench,
Says the old bold mate of Henry Morgan.
Oh some are for the lily, and some are for the rose,
But I am for the sugar-cane that in Jamaica grows;
For it's that that makes the bonny drink to warm my copper nose,
Says the old bold mate of Henry Morgan.
Oh some are fond of fiddles, and a song well sung,
And some are all for music for to lilt upon the tongue;
But mouths were made for tankards, and for sucking at the bung,
Says the old bold mate of Henry Morgan.
Oh some are fond of dancing, and some are fond of dice,
And some are all for red lips, and pretty lasses' eyes;
But a right Jamaica puncheon is a finer prize
To the old bold mate of Henry Morgan.
Oh some that's good and godly ones they hold that it's a sin
To troll the jolly bowl around, and let the dollars spin;
But I'm for toleration and for drinking at an inn,
Says the old bold mate of Henry Morgan.
Oh some are sad and wretched folk that go in silken suits,
And there's a mort of wicked rogues that live in good reputes;
So I'm for drinking honestly, and dying in my boots,
Like an old bold mate of Henry Morgan.
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Written by
Rudyard Kipling |
"'As anybody seen Bill 'Awkins?"
"Now 'ow in the devil would I know?"
"'E's taken my girl out walkin',
An' I've got to tell 'im so --
Gawd -- bless 'im!
I've got to tell 'im so."
"D'yer know what 'e's like, Bill 'Awkins?"
"Now what in the devil would I care?"
"'E's the livin', breathin' image of an organ-grinder's monkey,
With a pound of grease in 'is 'air --
Gawd -- bless 'im!
An' a pound o' grease in 'is 'air."
"An' s'pose you met Bill 'Awkins,
Now what in the devil 'ud ye do?"
"I'd open 'is cheek to 'is chin-strap buckle,
An' bung up 'is both eyes, too --
Gawd -- bless 'im!
An bung up 'is both eyes, too!"
"Look 'ere, where 'e comes, Bill 'Awkins!
Now, what in the devil will you say?"
"It isn't fit an' proper to be fightin' on a Sunday,
So I'll pass 'im the time o' day --
Gawd -- bless 'im!
I'll pass 'im the time o' day!"
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Written by
Marriott Edgar |
One evening at dusk as Noah stood on his Ark,
Putting green oil in starboard side lamp,
His wife came along and said, 'Noah, summat's wrong,
Our cabin is getting quite damp.
Noah said, 'Is that so?' Then he went down below,
And found it were right what she'd said,
For there on the floor quite a puddle he saw,
It was slopping around under t' bed.
Said he, 'There's an 'ole in the bottom somewhere,
We must find it before we retire.'
Then he thowt for a bit, and he said 'Aye, that's it,
A bloodhound is what we require.'
Se he went and fetched bloodhound from place where it lay,
'Tween the skunk and the polecat it were,
And as things there below, were a trifle so-so,
It were glad of a breath of fresh air.
They followed the sound as it went sniffing round,
'Til at last they located the leak,
'Twere a small hole in the side, about two inches wide,
Where a swordfish had poked in its beak.
And by gum! how the wet squirted in through that hole,
Well, young Shem who at sums was expert,
Worked it out on his slate that it came at the rate,
Of per gallon, per second, per squirt.
The bloodhound tried hard to keep water in check,
By lapping it up with his tongue,
But it came in so fast through that hole, that at last,
He shoved in his nose for a bung.
The poor faithful hound, he were very near drowned,
They dragged him away none too soon,
For the stream as it rose, pushed its way up his nose,
And blew him up like a balloon.
And then Mrs Noah shoved her elbow in t'hole,
And said,' Eh! it's stopped I believe,'
But they found very soon as she'd altered her tune,
For the water had got up her sleeve.
When she saw as her elbow weren't doing much good,
She said to Noah, 'I've an idea,
You sit on the leak and by t'end of the week,
There's no knowing, the weather may clear.'
Noah didn't think much to this notion, at all,
But reckoned he'd give it a try,
On the 'ole down he flopped, and the leaking all stopped,
And all... except him, was quite dry.
They took him his breakfast and dinner and tea,
As day after day there he sat,
'Til the rain was all passed and they landed at last,
On top side of Mount Ararat.
And that is how Noah got them all safe ashore,
But ever since then, strange to tell,
Them as helped save the Ark has all carried a mark,
Aye, and all their descendants as well.
That's why dog has a cold nose, and ladies cold elbows,
You'll also find if you enquire,
That's why a man takes his coat tails in hand,
And stands with his back to the fire.
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