| |
| ONE night came on a hurricane, | |
| The sea was mountains rolling, | |
| When Barney Buntline turned his quid, | |
| And said to Billy Bowling: | |
| “A strong nor’wester ’s blowing, Bill; | 5 |
| Hark! don’t ye hear it roar now? | |
| Lord help ’em, how I pities them | |
| Unhappy folks on shore now! | |
| |
| “Foolhardy chaps who live in towns, | |
| What danger they are all in, | 10 |
| And now lie quaking in their beds, | |
| For fear the roof shall fall in: | |
| Poor creatures! how they envies us, | |
| And wishes, I ’ve a notion, | |
| For our good luck, in such a storm, | 15 |
| To be upon the ocean! | |
| |
| “And as for them who ’re out all day | |
| On business from their houses, | |
| And late at night are coming home, | |
| To cheer their babes and spouses,— | 20 |
| While you and I, Bill, on the deck | |
| Are comfortably lying, | |
| My eyes! what tiles and chimney-pots | |
| About their heads are flying! | |
| |
| “And very often have we heard | 25 |
| How men are killed and undone | |
| By overturns of carriages, | |
| By thieves and fires in London. | |
| We know what risks all landsmen run, | |
| From noblemen to tailors; | 30 |
| Then, Bill, let us thank Providence | |
| That you and I are sailors.” | |
| |
