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The Bold Buccaneer

One very rough day on the Pride of the Fray
In the scuppers a poor little cabin-boy lay,
When the Bosun drew nigh with wrath in his eye
And gave him a kick to remember him by,
As he cried with a sneer: “What good are you here?
Go home to your mammy, my bold buccaneer.”

Now the Captain beheld, and his pity upwelled:
With a plug in the peeper the Bosun he felled.
With humility grand he extended his hand
And helped the poor lad, who was weeping, to stand,
As he cried: “Have no fear; I'm the manager here.
Take heart, and you'll yet be a bold buccaneer.”

But how he did flare when the lad then and there
Doffed his cap and shook down a gold banner of hair.
Though his movements were shy, he'd a laugh in his eye,
And he sank on the Captain's broad breast with a sigh,
As he cried: “Is it queer that I've followed you here?
I'm your sweetheart from Bristol, my bold buccaneer.”

On an isle in the west, by the breezes caressed,
The bold buccaneer has a warm little nest,
And he sits there in state amid pieces of eight
And tackles his rum with a manner elate,
As he cries: “O my dear little cabin-boy, here
Is a toast to the babe of the bold buccaneer!”

poem by John Le Gay Brereton
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Bold & Reckless

(r. hine, j. obstoj)
Producer: rupert hine
Album: non-album track
B-side of the australian steamy windows single
From the the best uk/europe 12 and cd5
So yo think youve got a hold on me
But did you ever, or is that your fantasy.
Ill miss you when you go,
But, no pain wont show
Im free to search and go my way.
So bold, so bold and reckless.
I suppose youve been good to me
Maybe not enough to rock my sanity.
You never asked me questions,
And you never understood.
Im free to search and go my way.
So bold, so bold and reckless.
So bold, yeah bold and reckless.
Well, I cant live in a cage,
Ive just got to be free, dancin and flyin away.
But your always in my dreams, runin
Yes, your always in my dreams, runin
So weve been gettin closer by degree
But, you wont ever bring me to my knees.
Youll never make me shy,
And you wont see me cry.
Im still free to go my way.
So bold, so bold and reckless.
So bold, still bold and reckless.
Yes, you were always in my dreams runin
Always in my dreams.
So bold, so bold and reckless.
Yeah, yeah, so bold and reckless.
Yeah, yeah, so bold and reckless.
Still bold, still bold and reckless.
Still bold, still bold and reckless.

song performed by by Tina Turner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Last Buccaneer

The winds were yelling, the waves were swelling,
The sky was black and drear,
When the crew with eyes of flame brought the ship without a name
Alongside the last Buccaneer.

"Whence flies your sloop full sail before so fierce a gale,
When all others drive bare on the seas?
Say, come ye from the shore of the holy Salvador,
Or the gulf of the rich Caribbees?"

"From a shore no search hath found, from a gulf no line can sound,
Without rudder or needle we steer;
Above, below, our bark, dies the sea-fowl and the shark,
As we fly by the last Buccaneer.

"To-night there shall be heard on the rocks of Cape de Verde,
A loud crash, and a louder roar;
And to-morrow shall the deep, with a heavy moaning, sweep
The corpses and wreck to the shore."

The stately ship of Clyde securely now may ride,
In the breath of the citron shades;
And Severn's towering mast securely now flies fast,
Through the sea of the balmy Trades.

From St Jago's wealthy port, from Havannah's royal fort,
The seaman goes forth without fear;
For since that stormy night not a mortal hath had sight
Of the flag of the last Buccaneer.

poem by Thomas Babbington Macaulay
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Wings of destiny

I

Ask any parabat that jumped at Cassinga
and he would tell you
that destiny has wings.

While facing a battalion of
Cuban tanks and armoured cars,
out of the blue and as if by magic
a Buccaneer appeared.

There was nothing more beautiful
than to see that jet
making self-sacrificing dives,
before it flew off to disappear
into the blue sky,
but let me tell that heroic story
as I know it.

II

Coming back from a bombing raid on Cassinga
the next target of Captain Dries Marais was
the Swapo camp at Chetequera
and he insisted
on arming the Buccaneer bomber,
with armour penetrating rockets
in addition to the standard
high explosive rockets.

Andries Marais himself
couldn’t explain the reason
for the irregular request,
but kept on insisting
that every third rocket
should be armour piercing.

Even navigator Ernie Harvey
was perplexed with this request
and they were tense,
while preparing for
the strike mission.

The Buccaneer took of
and in a short while
crossed the Angolan border
and just when Ernie Harvey
were going to check in
with Tactical headquarters
things went mad
on the operational frequency.

The pilot Warneke
who had relieved them at Cassinga,
reported a armoured battalion
consisting out of tanks
and BTR 152 personnel carriers approaching.

The operational frequency
was far too cluttered
to get through to Tactical headquarters
and they heard
two Mirages being scrambled,
but there wasn’t time to arm them
and they had only
only 30 mm cannon.

You need an excellent navigator
to keep tract to a target
over the featureless Angolan countryside
and navigator and weapon systems operator Ernie Harvey
had replaced the maps
with the ones of the new target,
but the navigation computer
still had the settings.

III

When fighting against tanks
and armoured cars
with only a few landmines
and rocket propelled grenades
to stop them,
even light machine guns
are quite useless
and still I kept on shooting
while the LMG’s barrel got red hot
and I tried to keep the enemy back.

There was great joy
to see two Mirages
cutting the armoured cars apart,
but the surprise on the enemy
of that Buccaneer
dropping out of the sky
with its armour piercing
rockets will stay with me
to eternity.

Two tanks were shattered
and stood burning
after the first past
and the twin-barrelled 14.5 mm anti-aircraft guns
that the BTRs were trailing
were being deployed
and the Buccaneer
took one of the anti-aircraft guns out.

Suddenly the air was filled
with Puma helicopters landing
and the Buccaneer
took out a BTR
and two tanks started shelling us
and the Buccaneer kept diving
at close to the speed of sound
until the tanks disappeared
into the bush
and we lifted of safely.

There was nothing more beautiful
than to see that jet
making self-sacrificing dives,
before it flew off to disappear
into the blue sky.

Later I heard that 17 hits
were counted on that Buccaneer
that safely landed at Grootfontein base
and to this day,
I know about no greater heroes
than the two
flying in that Buccaneer.

.
[Reference: Cassinga Swapo military camp / town. Parabat=> South African Airborne / Parachuting soldier.]

poem by Gert Strydom
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The Bold Princess Royal

O on the fourteenth day of February we sailed from the land
In the bold Princess Royal bound for Newfoundland.
We had forty bright sailors for our ship's companie,
And boldly from the eastward to the westward sailed we.

We had not been sailing scarce days two or three
When our man from the masthead a sail he did see.
She bore down upon us to see what we were,
When from under her mizzen black colours she wore.

My God cries our Captain what shall we do now
For there comes a bold pirate to rob us I know.
O no, cries our chief mate it cannot be so
For we'll spread out our reef boys and from her we'll go.

And when this bold pirate came up alongside
Through a loudspeaking trumpet he said 'Who are you?'
Our Captain walked the quarterdeck and he answered him so
'We come from fair London and we're bound for Cairo.'

Then draw up your courses and heave your ship to
For I've got a letter. I'll send on by you.
We'll draw up our courses and heave our ship to
But it will be in some harbour not alongside of you.

He chased us to windward for all that long day
He chased us to windward and night and a day
He chased us to windward but could not prevail
Whilst the bold Princess Royal did show them her tail.

Thank God cries our captain, since the pirate has gone
'Bring a cask of good brandy, fore and aft let it run.
Go down to your grog boys, and be of good cheer,
As long as we've sea-room my boys never fear

poem by Robert Burns
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The Good Ship Benevolent

Fomenting a fervor and stirring the bones
Ensnaring the sirens with songs from his lips
In voice of contralto or bass baritone
The dashing corsair in splendiferous ship.

A weathered and feathered, half woman half bird
Chimera admired his masterly spark
And breadth of his vision the first time she heard
The quick-witted salt in his broad-bottomed barque.

So lashing her limbs to the limb of a tree
To steady herself from the force of his throat
She listened with mixture of shock, awe and glee
To talented tar in his seaworthy boat.

Then plucking a shellfish she flew to a tor
And wielding a talon, proceeded to shuck it
One beady red eye on his exploits galore
The bold buccaneer in his barnacled bucket.

poem by Diane Hine
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Golden Yarns

Yarns we spin of old,
Makes the young bold.
They when hearing it,
Go in search of spirit,
Learn to chant and sing,
Doth timely rains bring.
Finding their inner soul,
And become really bold.
The old ways try and do,
Walk true the path anew,
Continually on the way,
Both at night and in day,
To search in any weather,
Bear claw; eagle feather;
Much pain; no tears cried;
To a new brave with pride.
The elders smile and nod.
On the good path to trod,
Much better than all gold,
Are the yarns spun of old.

poem by Joseph Blitch
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The Darned Mounseer

I shipped, d'ye see, in a Revenue sloop,
And, off Cape Finisteere,
A merchantman we see,
A Frenchman, going free,
So we made for the bold Mounseer,
D'ye see?
We made for the bold Mounseer!
But she proved to be a Frigate - and she up with her ports,
And fires with a thirty-two!
It come uncommon near,
But we answered with a cheer,
Which paralysed the Parley-voo,
D'ye see?
Which paralysed the Parley-voo!

Then our Captain he up and he says, says he,
"That chap we need not fear, -
We can take her, if we like,
She is sartin for to strike,
For she's only a darned Mounseer,
D'ye see?
She's only a darned Mounseer!
But to fight a French fal-lal - it's like hittin' of a gal -
It's a lubberly thing for to do;
For we, with all our faults,
Why, we're sturdy British salts,
While she's but a Parley-voo,
D'ye see?
A miserable Parley-voo!"

So we up with our helm, and we scuds before the breeze,
As we gives a compassionating cheer;
Froggee answers with a shout
As he sees us go about,
Which was grateful of the poor Mounseer,
D'ye see?
Which was grateful of the poor Mounseer!
And I'll wager in their joy they kissed each other's cheek
(Which is what them furriners do),
And they blessed their lucky stars
We were hardy British tars
Who had pity on a poor Parley-voo,
D'ye see?
Who had pity on a poor Parley-voo!

poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
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Eugowra Rocks

It's all about bold Frank Gardiner with the devil in his eye
He said "We've work before us lads we've got to do or die
So blacken up your faces before the dead of night
And its over by Eugowra Rocks we'll either fall or fight"

Chorus: You can sing of Johnny Gilbert Dan Morgan and Ben Hall
But the bold and reckless Gardiner he's the boy to beat them all

We'll stop the Orange escort with powder and with ball
We'll shoot the coach to pieces and we'll down the peelers all
We'll lift the diggers' money we'll collar all their gold
So mind your guns are killers now my comrades true and bold.

So now off go the rifles the battle has begun
The escort started running boys all in the setting sun
The robbers seized their plunder so saucy and so bold
And they're riding from Eugowra Rocks encumbered with their gold

And as with savage laughter they left that fatal place
They cried "We've struck bonanza boys we've won the steeplechase!"
And Gardiner their leader he shouted a loud "Hooray
I think we've made our fortunes at Eugowra Rocks today"

poem by Anonymous Oceania
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The Yarn of the Nancy Bell

'Twas on the shores that round our coast
From Deal to Ramsgate span,
That I found alone on a piece of stone
An elderly naval man.

His hair was weedy, his beard was long,
And weedy and long was he,
And I heard this wight on the shore recite,
In a singular minor key:

"Oh, I am a cook and a captain bold,
And the mate of the NANCY brig,
And a bo'sun tight, and a midshipmite,
And the crew of the captain's gig."

And he shook his fists and he tore his hair,
Till I really felt afraid,
For I couldn't help thinking the man had been drinking,
And so I simply said:

"Oh, elderly man, it's little I know
Of the duties of men of the sea,
And I'll eat my hand if I understand
However you can be

"At once a cook, and a captain bold,
And the mate of the NANCY brig,
And a bo'sun tight, and a midshipmite,
And the crew of the captain's gig."

Then he gave a hitch to his trousers, which
Is a trick all seamen larn,
And having got rid of a thumping quid,
He spun this painful yarn:

"'Twas in the good ship NANCY BELL
That we sailed to the Indian Sea,
And there on a reef we come to grief,
Which has often occurred to me.

"And pretty nigh all the crew was drowned
(There was seventy-seven o' soul),
And only ten of the NANCY'S men
Said 'Here!' to the muster-roll.

"There was me and the cook and the captain bold,
And the mate of the NANCY brig,
And the bo'sun tight, and a midshipmite,
And the crew of the captain's gig.

"For a month we'd neither wittles nor drink,
Till a-hungry we did feel,
So we drawed a lot, and, accordin' shot
The captain for our meal.

"The next lot fell to the NANCY'S mate,
And a delicate dish he made;
Then our appetite with the midshipmite
We seven survivors stayed.

"And then we murdered the bo'sun tight,
And he much resembled pig;
Then we wittled free, did the cook and me,
On the crew of the captain's gig.

"Then only the cook and me was left,
And the delicate question, 'Which
Of us two goes to the kettle?' arose,
And we argued it out as sich.

"For I loved that cook as a brother, I did,
And the cook he worshipped me;
But we'd both be blowed if we'd either be stowed
In the other chap's hold, you see.

"'I'll be eat if you dines off me,' says TOM;
'Yes, that,' says I, 'you'll be, -
'I'm boiled if I die, my friend,' quoth I;
And 'Exactly so,' quoth he.

"Says he, 'Dear JAMES, to murder me
Were a foolish thing to do,
For don't you see that you can't cook ME,
While I can - and will - cook YOU!'

"So he boils the water, and takes the salt
And the pepper in portions true
(Which he never forgot), and some chopped shalot.
And some sage and parsley too.

"'Come here,' says he, with a proper pride,
Which his smiling features tell,
''T will soothing be if I let you see
How extremely nice you'll smell.'

"And he stirred it round and round and round,
And he sniffed at the foaming froth;
When I ups with his heels, and smothers his squeals
In the scum of the boiling broth.

"And I eat that cook in a week or less,
And - as I eating be
The last of his chops, why, I almost drops,
For a wessel in sight I see!

"And I never larf, and I never smile,
And I never lark nor play,
But sit and croak, and a single joke
I have - which is to say:

"Oh, I am a cook and a captain bold,
And the mate of the NANCY brig,
And a bo'sun tight, and a midshipmite,
And the crew of the captain's gig!'"

poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
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Hypnotize

I want to hypnotize you baby
On the telephone
So many times I called your house
Just to hear the tone
And though I knew you werent home
I didnt mind so much cause Im so alone
I want to hypnotize you baby
On the telephone
I want to spin my little watch
Right before your eyes
Youre the kind of girl a guy like me
Could hypnotize
And if this comes as a surprise
Just think of all those guys
Who would tell you lies
I want to spin my little watch
Right before your eyes
I want to hold your little hand
If I can be so bold
And be your right hand man
til your hands get old
And then when all the feelings gone
Just decide if you want to keep holding on
I want to hold your little hand
If I can be so bold
If I can be so bold
If I can be so bold

song performed by by White Stripes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Young Guns

Hey hotshot, your're a one man band
The Don on the block with a glock in your hand
With the girl and the ride, you dont't wanna hear
Think you're getting respect, all you've found is fear
The one damn thing you're sure to find
Is another gun, where you gonna hide?
Said you'd never never run, I guess you lied
You're the fool in the crew that died
Your mother cried
Hold your fire, cool your temper
Young guns ever too bold
Hold your fire, just remember
Young guns never grow old
Hey hotshot, you're a one man band
The Don on the block with a glock in your hand
With the girl and the ride, you dont't wanna hear
Think you're getting respect all you find is fear
The one damn thing you're sure to find
Is a bigger gun to blow away your pride
Your young blood running in the roadside
And in the crossfire, innocents died
We all cried
Hold your fire, cool your temper
Young guns ever too bold
Hold your fire, just remember
Young guns never grow old.
Hey hotshot, you're a one man band
The don on the block with a glock in your hand
With the girl and the ride, you dont't wanna hear
Think your getting respect, all you've found is fear
Hold your fire, cool your temper
Young guns ever to bold
Hold your fire, just remember
Young guns never grow old
Hold your fire, cool your temper
Young guns ever too bold
Hold your fire, just remember
Young guns never grow old
Young guns never grow old
Young guns never grow old

song performed by by Ub40
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Another Imitation Of Anacreon

PRONE, on my couch I calmly slept
Against my wont. A little child
Awoke me as he gently crept
And beat my door. A tempest wild
Was raging-dark and cold the night.
"Have pity on my naked plight,"
He begged, "and ope thy door".--"Thy name?"
I asked admitting him.--"The same
"Anon I'll tell, but first must dry
"My weary limbs, then let me try
"My mois'ened bow."--Despite my fear
The hearth I lit, then drew me near
My guest, and chafed his fingers cold.
"Why fear?" I thought. "Let me be bold
"No Polyphemus he; what harm
"In such a child?--Then I'll be calm!"
The playful boy drew out a dart,
Shook his fair locks, and to my heart
His shaft he launch'd.--"Love is my name,"
He thankless cried, "I hither came
"To tame thee. In thine ardent pain
"Of Cupid think and young Climene."--
"Ah! now I know thee, little scamp,
"Ungrateful, cruel boy! Decamp!"
Cupid a saucy caper cut,
Skipped through the door, and as it shut,
"My bow," he taunting cried, "is sound,
"Thy heart, poor comrade, feels the wound."

poem by La Fontaine
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A Salty Dog

'all hands on deck, we've run afloat!' i heard the captain cry
'explore the ship, replace the cook: let no one leave alive!'
Across the straits, around the horn: how far can sailors fly?
A twisted path, our tortured course, and no one left alive
We sailed for parts unknown to man, where ships come home to die
No lofty peak, nor fortress bold, could match our captain's eye
Upon the seventh seasick day we made our port of call
A sand so white, and sea so blue, no mortal place at all
We fired the gun, and burnt the mast, and rowed from ship to shore
The captain cried, we sailors wept: our tears were tears of joy
Now many moons and many junes have passed since we made land
A salty dog, this seaman's log: your witness my own hand

song performed by by Styx
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Death of Captain Ward

'Twas about the beginning of the past century
Billy Bowls was pressed into the British Navy,
And conveyed on board the "Waterwitch" without delay,
Scarce getting time to bid farewell to the villagers of Fairway.

And once on board the "Waterwitch" he resolved to do his duty,
And if he returned safe home he'd marry Nelly Blyth, his beauty;
And he'd fight for old England like a jolly British tar,
And the thought of Nelly Blyth would solace him during the war.

Poor fellow, he little thought what he had to go through,
But in all his trials at sea he never did rue;
No, the brave tar became reconciled to his fate,
And felt proud of his commander, Captain Ward the Great.

And on board the "Waterwitch" was Tom Riggles, his old comrade,
And with such a comrade he seldom felt afraid;
Because the stories they told each other made the time pass quickly away,
And made their hearts feel light and gay.

'Twas on a Sunday morning and clear to the view,
Captain Ward the attention of his men he drew;
"Look!" he cried, "There's two French men-of-war our right,
Therefore prepare, my lads, immediately to begin the fight."

Then the " Waterwitch" was steered to the ship that was most near,
While every men resolved to sell their lives most dear;
But the French commander disinclined to engage in the fight,
And he ordered his men to put on a press of canvas and take to flight.

Then Captain Ward gave the order to fire,
Then Billy Bowls cried, "Now we'll get fighting to our hearts' desire";
And for an hour a running fight was maintained,
And the two ships of the enemy near upon the "Waterwitch" gained.

Captain Ward walked the deck with a firm tread,
When a shot from the enemy pierced the ship, yet he felt no dread;
But with a splinter Bill Bowls was wounded on the left arm,
And he cried, "Death to the frog-eaters, they have done me little harm."

Then Captain Ward cried, "Fear not, my men, we will win the day,
Now, men, pour in a broadside without delay
Then they sailed around the "St. Denis" and the "Gloire,"
And in their cabin windows they poured a deadly fire.

The effect on the two ships was tremendous to behold,
But the Frenchmen stuck to their guns with courage bold;
And the crash and din of artillery was deafening to the ear,
And the cries of the wounded men ware pitiful to hear.

Then Captain Ward to his men did say,
"We must board the Frenchman without delay";
Then he seized his cutlass as he spoke,
And jumped on board the " St. Denis " in the midst of the smoke.

Then Bill Bowls and Tom Riggles hastily followed him,
Then, hand to hand, the battle did begin;
And the men sprang upon their foe and beat them back,
And hauled down their colours and hoisted the Union Jack.

But the men on board the "St. Denis" fought desperately hard,
And just as the "St. Denis" was captured a ball struck Captain Ward
Right on the forehead, and he fell without a groan,
And for the death of Captain Ward the men did moan.

Then the first lieutenant who was standing near by,
Loudly to the men did cry,
"Come, men, and carry your noble commander below;
But there's one consolation, we have beaten the foe."

And thus fell Captain Ward in the prime of life,
But I hope he is now in the better world free from strife;
But, alas! 'tis sad to think he was buried in the mighty deep,
Where too many of our brave seamen silently sleep.

poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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Isolation's salvation

Upon fining a jocund company
Of dear nature's own
I said let's have a symphony
And in bliss let us drown

Little daises, little fairies
Come let us dance in the prairies
My dear buccaneer
Where did you learn to leer?

And so he has to go
Away with dear woe
While I behold the breeze
those skies and those trees

Nature is the keen listener
To all my say
And I am a merry prisoner
On joy's way

It is the isolation's salvation
And the solution of my confusion
Here I make a confession
And on myself a close inspection

poem by Vittal Vandavasu
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Bold As Love

Anger he smiles, towering in shiny metallic purple armour
Queen jealousy, envy waits behind him
Her fiery green gown sneers at the grassy ground
Blue are the life-giving waters taken for granted,
They quietly understand
Once happy turquoise armies lay opposite ready,
But wonder why the fight is on
But theyre all bold as love, yes, theyre all bold as love
Yeah, theyre all bold as love
Just ask the axis
My red is so confident that he flashes trophies of war and
Ribbons of euphoria
Orange is young, full of daring,
But very unsteady for the first go round
My yellow in this case is not so mellow
In fact Im trying to say its frigthened like me
And all these emotions of mine keep holding me from, eh,
Giving my life to a rainbow like you
But, Im eh , yeah, Im bold as love
Yeah, yeah
Well Im bold, bold as love (hear me talking, girl)
Im bold as love
Just ask the axis (he knows everything)
Yeah, yeah, yeah

song performed by by Jimi Hendrix
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Be bold, be bold, and everywhere be bold.

quote by Herbert Spencer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sentimental Shark

Give me a cabin in the woods
Where not a human soul intrudes;
Where I can sit beside a stream
Beneath a balsam bough and deam,
And every morning see arise
The sun like bird of paradise;
Then go down to the creek and fish
A speckled trout for breakfast dish,
And fry it in an ember fire -
Ah! there's the life of my desire.

Alas! I'm tied to Wall Street where
They reckon me a millionaire,
And sometimes in a day alone
I gain a fortune o'er the 'phone.
Yet I to be a man was made,
And here I ply this sorry trade
Of Company manipulation,
Of selling short and stock inflation:
I whom God meant to rope a steer,
Fate mad a Wall Street buccaneer.

Old Time, how I envy you
Who do the things I long to do.
Oh, I would swap you all my riches
To step into your buckskin britches.
Your ragged shirt and rugged health
I'd take in trade for all my wealth.
Then shorn of fortune you would see
How drunk with freedom I would be;
I'd kick so hard, I'd kick so high,
I'd kick the moon clean from the sky.

Aye, gold to me is less than brass,
And jewels mean no more than glass.
My gold is sunshine and my gems
The glint of dew on grassy stems . . .
Yet though I hate my guts its true
Time sorta makes you used to you;
And so I will not gripe too much
Because I have the Midas touch,
But doodle on my swivel chair,
Resigned to be a millionaire.

poem by Robert William Service
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Handsome Cabin Boy

It's of a pretty female as you may understand
Her mind been bent for rambling into some foreign land
She dressed herself in sailor's clothes, or so it does appear
And she hired with a captain to serve him for a year
Her cheeks they were like roses and her hair all in a curl
The sailors often smiled and said he looked just like a girl
But eating all the captain's biscuit her colour did destroy
And the waist did swell of pretty Nell, the handsome cabin boy
It was in the Bay of Biscay her gallant ship did plow
One night among the sailors was a fearful floorin' row
They tumbled from their hammocks, for their sleep it did destroy
And they swarmed about the groanin' of the handsome cabin boy
"Oh doctor, dear. Oh doctor," the cabin boy did cry
"The time has come -- I am undone, and I will surely die"
The doctor come a'runnin' and a'smilin' at their fun --
To think a sailor lad should have a daughter or a son
The sailors when they saw the joke, they all did stand and stare
The child belonged to none of them, they solemnly did swear
And the captain's wife she says to him, "My dear I wish you joy
For 'tis either you or me's betrayed the handsome cabin boy"
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song performed by by Kate Bush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Deaf Martha

Poor Martha is old, and her hair is turn'd grey,
And her hearing has left her for many a year;
Ten to one if she knows what it is that you say,
Though she puts her poor wither'd hand close to her ear.

I've seen naughty children run after her fast,
And cry, "Martha, run, there's a bullock so bold;"
And when she was frighten'd, ­laugh at her at last,
Because she believed the sad stories they told.

I've seen others put their mouths close to her ear,
And make signs as if they had something to say;
And when she said, "Master, I'm deaf and can't hear,"
Point at her and mock her, and scamper away.

Ah! wicked the children poor Martha to tease,
As if she had not enough else to endure;
They rather should try her affliction to ease,
And soothe a disorder that nothing can cure.

One day, when those children themselves are grown old,
And one may be deaf, and another be lame,
Perhaps they may find that some children, as bold,
May tease them, and mock them, and serve them the same.

Then, when they reflect on the days of their youth,
A faithful account will their consciences keep,
And teach them, with shame and with sorrow, the truth,
That "what a man soweth, the same shall he reap."

poem by Ann Taylor
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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