Dibdin's Museum, &c, SONG

When the anchor's weigh'd and the ship is unmoor'd, And landsmen lag behind, sir; The sailor joyful skips on board And swearing prays for a wind, sir. Towing here, yehoing there, Steadily, readily, chearily, merrily, Still from care and thinking free, is a sailor's life at sea.

When we sail with a fresh'ning breeze, And landsmen all grow sick, sir, The sailor lolls with his mind at ease, And the song and the can go quick, sir, Laughing her, quaffing there, steadily, &c.

When the wind at night whistles o'er the deep, And sings to landsmen dreary, The sailor fearless goes to sleep Or takes his watch most cheary. Boozing here, snoozing there, steadily, &c.

When the sky grows black and the wind blows hard, And landsmen skulk below, sir, Jack mounts up to the topsail yard, And turns his quid as he goes, sir, Howling here, bawling there, steadily, &c.

When the foaming waves run mountains high, And the landsmen cry, All's gone sir, The sailor hangs 'twixt sea and sky, And he jokes with Davy Jones, sir, Dashing here, clashing there, steadily, &c.

When the ship dy'see becomes a wreck And landsmen hoist the boat, sir, The sailor scorns to quit the deck While a single plank's affoat sir. Swearing here, tearing there, steadily, &c.