The Mermaid Ii
Poem By Anonymous British
'Twas Friday morn when we set sail,
And we had not got far from land,
When the Captain, he spied a lovely mermaid,
With a comb and a glass in her hand.
Oh the ocean waves may roll,
And the stormy winds may blow,
While we poor sailors go skipping aloft
And the land lubbers lay down below, below, below
And the land lubbers lay down below.
Then up spoke the Captain of our gallant ship,
And a jolly old Captain was he;
'I have a wife in Salem town,
But tonight a widow she will be.'
Then up spoke the Cook of our gallant ship,
And a greasy old Cook was he;
'I care more for my kettles and my pots,
Than I do for the roaring of the sea.'
Then up spoke the Cabin-boy of our gallant ship,
And a dirty little brat was he;
'I have friends in Boston town
That don't care a ha' penny for me.'
Then three times 'round went our gallant ship,
And three times 'round went she,
And the third time that she went 'round
She sank to the bottom of the sea.