[4]
Then to my box I creep,
And there fall fast asleep—
What’s that?— St. Paul’s strikes three,
Thus from my roguery I gets free,
By giving people warning',
And loudly bawls,
As strikes St. Paul’s
Past three o'clock, and a cloudy morning.
THE LUCKY ESCAPE
I That was once a ploughman a sailor am now,
No lark that arose in the sky,
E'er'flutter’d his wings to give speed to the plough,
Was so gay and so careless as I. Was so, etc.
But my friend was a carpenter on board a king’s ship,
And he ask’d me to go just to sea for a trip,
And he talk’d of such things as if sailors were kings.
And so teazing did keep,
And so teazing did keep,
That I left my poor plough to go ploughing the deep,
No longer the horn call’d me up in the morn,
No longer the horn call’d me op in the morn,
I trusted to the carpenter and the inconsistant wind,
That made me for to go and leave my dear behind.
I did not much like to be on board of a ship,
When in danger there’s no door to creep out;
I liked the jolly tars,I liked the bumbo and flip,
But I did not "like rocking about:
By and by came a hurricane, I did not like that,
Next a battle that many a sailor laid flat
Ah I cried I, who would roam,
That like me had a home ;
When i'd sow and I’d reap.
Ere I'd left my poor plough, to go ploughing the deep,
