Classic Poem

I heard a sailor talking ,
As he tossed upon his bed
In hot uneasy slumber,
And this is what he said:
Why does she shake her head at me
Until her ear-rings tinkle,
Though all the while her merry smile
Keeps her blue eyes at winkle?

Why does she slyly glance at me
As she pours out the wine,
Then pucker up her pretty lips
And hold them up to mine?

Why does she suddenly draw back
And o'er my shoulder stare?
Why does that silly parrot screech?
Why does the gas-jet flare?

And who's the lad that's running round
Upon the heaving floor
With a knife betwixt his shoulder-blades —
And cannot find the door?

Why does the scarlet parrot screech?
Why does the gas flare red?
Why do her tinkling ear-rings dance
A hornpipe in my head?