21
O'er the lee-beam is the land, boys:
Let the guns o'erboard be thrown;
To the pups come every hand, boys;
She our mizen-mast is gone:
The leak we've found, it cannot pour fast,
We've lighten'd her a foot or more;
Up and rig a jury foremast;
She rights, she rights, boys! wear off shore.
Now once more on joys we're thinking,
Since kind fortune spar'd our lives:
Come, the can, boys, let's be drinking,
To our sweethearts and our wives.
Fill it up, about ship wheel it,
Close to th' lips a brimmer join;
Where's the tempest now? who fears it?
None! our danger's drown'd in wine.
THE BOATIE ROWS.
O weel may the boatie row,
- And better may it speed:
And liesome may the boatie row,
- That wins my bairus' bread:
The boatie rows, the boatie rows,
- The boatie rows indeed;
And weel may the boatie row,
- That wins the bairns' bread.
When Jamie vow'd he wad be mine,
- And wan frae me my heart,</poem>
