Come listen all, both great and small

Come listen all, both great and small, Of high and low degree; That ye may know this true story And live in charity.

As wealth by waste and idle taste Soon falls to penury, So small estate becometh great By luck and industry.

Content then be in poverty, In wealth of humble mind; Like children of one family To one another kind.

This merchant now in foreign parts A venture fain would make; And all the folk of his household Were free to share the stake.

One risk’d a shilling, one a groat, And one a coin of gold; And every one his stake anon To the ship’s captain told.

Then half in jest, and half in shame, Dick fetch’d his kitten down: “I too,” he to the captain cried, “Will venture all my own.”

The servants laugh’d: Dick would have wept, And therefore laugh’d the more; But soon they stared for wonderment Who laugh’d so loud before.

For now the Captain, “Done,” he cried, “A bargain by my fay:” And call’d the ship’s-mate in a trice, To stow the cat away.

He came so quick, no time had Dick To countervail his joke: So all aboard poor Puss was stored Among the sea-going folk.

Now from her mooring, all ataut, Put off at turn of tide, Adown the river’s ebbing flood The gallant bark did glide.

And, like some heavenward-soaring bird, She faced the open seas; And seem’d as sick of land to spread Her wings before the breeze.

Then, as she flew, Puss fetch’d a mew, As if to say—poor me! To think that I a land-bred cat Should thus be press’d to sea!

But, ere a week was past and gone, He changed this plaintive tone, And, like a jolly sailor-boy, Purr’d gaily up and down.

For lean and fat a ship-board cat He found hath both to spare; And legs by hosts for rubbing posts Are always lounging there.

And then he oft would run aloft, And just look out to sea; Nor e’er a boy could scream ahoy In shriller note than he.

The fresh wind blew; the light bark flew, And clear’d the channel’s mouth; Through Biscay’s bay then cut her way, And bore towards the South.

For she was bound for Afric ground, Where wretched negroes dwell; Who waste their days in idle ways, As I am loth to tell.

Nathless the soil withouten toil God’s gracious bounty yields; And gum drops free from every tree Along the sunny fields.

And we are told how dust of gold Stains all the river sands: And huge beasts shed their ivory tusks About the desert lands.

Now what is not with trouble got Is seldom kept with care: For foresight and economy To idlesse strangers are.

So these poor souls their goodly stores, Not needed for the day, For trifles and for tromperie They barter all away.

Three days, three nights our gallant ship Her southward course had steer’d, When o’er her larboard at the dawn Saint Vincent’s cape appear’d.

Still southward yet three days three nights Her steady prow she bore; But when again Sol gilt the main Was spied Marocco’s shore.

Now shouts of joy and busy noise Salute the rising day: The coast was made, the ship was stay’d, And anchor’d in the bay.

As when a stranger hawk, that long Hath soar’d in middle air, Borne earthward on a tree alights, And makes his station there;

The myriad tenants of the grove Would fain his purpose know; And flock around, yet hold aloof For fear to meet a foe:

’Twas thus the negroes throng’d the beach, To view a ship at sea: While some drew down their light canoes; What mote the strange bark be?

Or friend—or foe? They long’d to know, Yet durst not venture near: Till soon the boat was all afloat, And off to lay their fear.

Afront were seen a king and queen, Whom all the rest obey’d: And all the good things of the land Belong’d to them, ’twas said.

Which when the captain heard, and how They had an ample hoard, Their companie requested he To dine with him on board.

Now, wafted o’er the azure lake, The king and eke his queen, Behold them seated on the deck: The captain sat between.

But ere the dinner it was served, While yawn’d the king for meat, Just to divert the royal mind, Puss rubb’d against his feet.

Now you must know the royal toe It ticklish was to touch: But Puss rubb’d he so daintily, The king he liked it much.

Then to his bride he spake aside, And e’en was speaking yet, When lo!—the platter came,—whereat The rest he did forget.

Now both did eat their fill of meat, As suiteth royalty: No lack was there of the ship’s best fare, And grog flow’d copiously.

And both did quaff, and both did laugh, And both sang merrily: Till Puss could stay no more away, But came to join the glee.

His tail he whisk’d, and leapt and frisk’d, As he was wont before: Whereat the king and eke the queen For very mirth did roar.

Then up he gat, and sware an oath— That, for so droll a thing, In barter, of his choicest goods A shipload he would bring.

Thereat the captain—“Done,” he cried “A bargain by my fay!” And sent his whole ship’s-company To fetch the goods away.

Now laugh’d the king and laugh’d the Queen, And laugh’d the captain he: A bargain struck at festive board Doth please so mightily.

The goods were brought, the ship was fraught, And stow’d away full tight. The king and queen, they drank till e’en, And slept on board that night.

The captain rose at early dawn And call’d to th’ king anon: “This cat is thine, this cargo’s mine; And now I must begone.”

The king awoke and waked the queen, Who slept so heavily, That full ten minutes pass’d away, Before that she could see.

Then clasping Puss within her arms She nursed him like a child. The king his humour now was sad; Nathless the monarch smiled.

Then down the vessel’s side he stepp’d, And down the queen stepp’d she. And Puss was handed down perforce To join their company.

Alongside lay the king’s canoe, Well mann’d with negroes ten; Who swift row’d off the royal pair, With Puss all snug between.

Then sung the Captain—“all hand’s up, The anchor haul amain: Unfurl the sails, and point the prow For British lands again.”

Tis done: from out the tranquil bay Our goodly vessel glides; And, homeward bound, on Ocean’s back Right gallantly she rides.