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THE master, the swabber, the boatswain and I,
The gunner and his mate,
But none of us cared for Kate ;
Would cry to a sailor, Go hang !
itch : Then to sea, boys, and let her go hang!
THE POWER OF SONG
ORPHEUS with his lute made trees
And the mountain tops that freeze Bow themselves when he did sing : To his music plants and flowers Ever sprung; as sun and showers
There had made a lasting spring.
Every thing that heard him play,
Hung their heads, and then lay by.
Fall asleep, or hearing, die.
W HEN daisies pied and violets blue
And lady-smocks all silver-white
Do paint the meadows with delight,
When shepherds pipe on oaten straws
And merry larks are ploughmen's clocks, When turtles tread, and rooks, and daws,
And maidens bleach their summer smocks,
W HEN icicles hang by the wall
And Dick the shepherd blows his nail And Tom bears logs into the hall
And milk comes frozen home in pail,
When all aloud the wind doth blow
And coughing drowns the parson's saw And birds sit brooding in the snow
And Marian's nose looks red and raw,