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" For," fays he, "d'ye mind me let ftorms e'er io oft
Take the top-lifts of failors a-back, There's a fweet little cherub fits perch'd up aloft
To keep watch for the life of Poor Jack.
I faid to our Poll (for you fee {he would cry),
When laft we weigh 'd anchor for fea,
- ' What argufies fniv'ling and piping your eye ?
Why, what a damn'd fool you muft be ! Can't you fee the world's wide, and there's room for - us all,
Both for feamen and lubbers alhore ; And if to old Davy I ihould go, my dear Poll,
Why, you never will hear of me more ! What then ? all's a hazard come don't be io foft
Perhaps I may laughing come baek : For, d'ye fee, there's a cherub fits fmiling aloft,
To keep watch for the life of Poor Jack."
��D'ye mind me, a failor Ihould be every inch
All as one as a piece of the Ihip, And with her brave the world, without offering to flinch,
From the moment the anchor's a-trip; As to me in all weathers, all times, fides and ends,
Nought's a trouble from duty that fprings My heart is my Poll's and my rhino my friend's,
And as for my life 'tis my King's ! 'E'en when my time comes, ne'er believe me fo foft
As with grief to be taken aback That fame little cherub that fits up aloft
Will look out a good birth forPoor Jack."
��HERE
�� �
