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Watery Grave.

Mine will be a watery grave,
I feel it in my bones.
Men will me in canvass sew,
And weigh me down with stones.

Placed on a plank of Oak,
My body will slip overboard.
Seawater my bones will cloak,
As I go to meet my Lord.

The Boatswain whistles, Men stand taught,
a tot of rum for all.
My life's not been for nought,
I followed the sea and it's call

My duty done I slip away,
Into the watery depths so deep,
Many a year I awaited this day,
My rendezvous with death to keep.

by Bernard Shaw

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