Oh, what's the matter wi' you, my lass,
An' where's your dashin Jimmy?
The sowdger boys have picked him up
And sent him far, far frae me.

Last pay-day he set off to town,
And them red-coated fellows
Enticed him in and made him drunk,
And he'd better gone to the gallows.

The very sight o' his cockade,
It set us all a-cryin;
And me, I fairly fainted twice,
I thought that I was dyin.

My father would have paid the smart,
And run for the golden guinea,
But the sergeant swore he'd kissed the book,

(Walkaway Shanty)

1. Oh, what shall we do with a drunken sailor,
2. Put him in the longboat till he gets sober,
What shall we do with a drunken sailor,
Put him in the longboat till he gets sober,
What shall we do with a drunken sailor,
Put him in the longboat till he gits sober,
Early in the morning?
Early in the morning!
3. Way, hay, and
up she rises, Way, hay, and up she rises,
Way, hay, and up she rises, Early in the morning!

4 Oh, what shall we do with a drunken soldier?

5 Put him in the guard-house till he gets sober.

Oh, what a plague is love! How shall I bear it?
She will unconstant prove, I greatly fear it.
She so molests my mind, that my wit faileth.
She wavers with the wind, as the ship saileth.
Please her the best I may,
She looks another way.
Alack and well-a-day!
Phyllida flouts me.

At the fair, yesterday, she would not see me,
But turned another way, when she came nigh me.
Dick had her in to dine; he might intreat her.
Will had her to the wine; I could not get her.
With Daniel did she dance;
At me she looked askance.

Oh wha are sae happy as me an' my Moggy?
— Oh wha are sae happy as Moggy an' me?
We're baith turnin' auld, an' our walth is soon tauld,
— But contentment bides aye in our cottage sae wee.
She toils a' the day when I'm out wi' the hirsel,
— An' chants to the bairns while I sing on the brae;
An' aye her blithe smile welcomes me frae my toil,
— When down the glen I come weary an' wae.

Aboon our auld heads we've a nice little biggin,
— That keeps out the cauld when the simmer's awa;
We've twa webs o' linen o' Moggy's ain spinnin',

Oh, we come on the sloop John B. ,My gran'fadder an' me.Round Nassau Town we did roam,Drinking
all night, we got in a fight,I feel so break-up I want to go home!

REFRAIN

So hoist up the John B. sails,See how de main-s'l set,Send for de Capt'n ashore, Lemme go home!Lemme go home! Lemme
go home!I feel so break-up I want to go home!

De first mate he got drunk,Break up de people's trunk.Constable come aboard an' take him away.Mr.
Johnstone, please let me alone.I feel so break-up I want to go home! Refrain

Oh! true was his heart while he breathed,
That King over Thule of old,
So she that adored him bequeathed
Him, dying, a beaker of gold.

At banquet and supper for years has
He brimmingly filled it up,
His eyes overflowing with tears as
He drank from that beaker-cup.

When Death came to wither his pleasures
He parceled his cities wide,
His castles, his lands, and his treasures,
But the beaker he laid aside.

They drank the red wine from the chalice,
His barons and marshals brave;
The monarch sat in his rock-palace

1. My Tommy's gone, what shall I do? A way , Hilo! My
2. My Tommy's gone to Liverpool, A way , Hilo!
Tommy's gone, what shall I do? (My) Tom my's gone to Hilo!
Tommy's gone to Liverpool, Tom my's gone to Hilo!

3 Now, Tommy's gone and I'll go too,
My Tommy's gone and I'll go too.

4 Now, pull away and show her clew.
We'll h'ist her up and show her clew.

5 One more pull and that will do. TWICE .

6 Tommy's gone to Baltimore
And where they carry the cotton ashore.

7 Now, pull away, my bully boys,

Oh , to feel the fresh breeze blowing
— From lone ridges yet untrod!
Oh, to see the far peak growing
— Whiter as it climbs to God!

Where the silver streamlet rushes
— I would follow — follow on
Till I heard the happy thrushes
— Piping lyrics to the dawn.

I would hear the wild rejoicing
— Of the wind-blown cedar tree,
Hear the sturdy hemlock voicing
— Ancient epics of the sea.

Forest aisles would I be winding,
— Out beyond the gates of Care;
And, in dim cathedrals, finding
— Silence at the shrine of Prayer.

Oh , there are those, a sordid clan,
—With pride in gaud and faith in gold,
Who prize the sacred soul of man
—For what his hands have sold.

And these shall deem thee humbly bred:
—They shall not hear, they shall not see
The kings among the lordly dead
—Who walk and talk with thee!

A tattered cloak may be thy dole,
—And thine the roof that Jesus had:
The broidered garment of the soul
—Shall keep thee purple-clad!

The blood of men hath dyed its brede,
—And it was wrought by holy seers
With sombre dream and golden deed,

Oh, the white Sea-gull, the wild Sea-gull,
A joyful bird is he,
As he lies like a cradled thing at rest
In the arms of a sunny sea!
The little waves rock to and fro,
And the white Gull lies asleep,
As the fisher's bark, with breeze and tide,
Goes merrily over the deep.
The ship, with her fair sails set, goes by,
And her people stand to note
How the Sea-gull sits on the rocking waves,
As if in an anchored boat.

The sea is fresh, the sea is fair,
And the sky calm overhead,
And the Sea-gull lies on the deep, deep sea,