Songs of the Sea and Lays of the Land

by Charles Godfrey Leland

TIME FOR US TO GO

With sails let fall and sheeted home, and clear of the ground were we,

We passed the bank, stood round the light, and sailed away to sea;

The wind was fair and the coast was clear, and the brig was noways slow,

For she was built in Baltimore, and ’twas time for us to go.

Time for us to go,

Time for us to go,

For she was built in Baltimore, and ’twas time for us to go.

A quick run to the West we had, and when we made the Bight,

We kept the offing all day long, and crossed the bar at night.

Six hundred niggers in the hold, and seventy we did stow,

And when we’d clapped the hatches on, ’twas time for us to go.

We hadn’t been three days at sea before we saw a sail,

So we clapped on every inch she’d stand, although it blew a gale,

And we walked along full fourteen knots, for the barkie she did know,

As well as ever a soul on board, ’twas time for us to go.

We carried away the royal yards, and the stun’sle boom was gone,

Says the skipper, “They may go or stand; I’m darned if I don’t crook on.

So the weather braces we’ll round in, and the trys’le set also,

And we’ll keep the brig three p’ints away, for it’s time for us to go.”

Oh yard-arm under she did plunge in the trough of the deep seas,

And her masts they thrashed about like whips as she bowled before the breeze,

And every yard did buckle up like to a bending bow,

But her spars were tough as whalebone, and ’twas time for us to go.

We dropped the cruiser in the night, and our cargo landed we,

And ashore we went, with our pockets full of dollars, on the spree.

And when the liquor it is out, and the locker it is low,

Then to sea again, in the ebony trade, ’twill be time for us to go.

Time for us to go,

Time for us to go,

Then to sea again, in the ebony trade, ’twill be time for us to go.

“Wall,” said Mose Brown, “I ’low that that escape

From the derned cruiser was a blame close shave,

And I myself once in as bad a scrape

Was lifted out by one big thumping wave

On the same line of coast—or thereabout,

Since it was off the Bight—that’s old Benin—

Where as the sayin’ is, ‘but one goes out

Of all a hundred strangers who go in.’

It ain’t so healthy quite—to be exact—

As ’tis in Colorado high and dry,

Where they send invalids—it is a fact—

Off to some other country for to die;

Excuse me, gents, for keepin’ you so long,

Now I’ll proceed to let you hev my song.”

ROLLING OVER[^[4]]

It was upon a Boston brig, and that was in the Fall,

Our barky she was light as a gig, for our lading was but small;

And it was in the American War as we were sailing thus,

When we saw a steamer from afar, and knew she was after us.

Chorus. Rolling over, rolling over, rolling on.

The roaring waves they came,

Like water into fire all gone,

For the sea was all of a flame.

Now I have often seen by dark the sea a-burning bright,

But nothing did I yet remark like what it was that night,

And the wake we left behind us as we sailed for many an hour,

Was like a fiery serpent who was chasing to devour.

And then the captain made a speech to us a-standing round,

And said: “ ’Fore I’ll be taken I’ll be damned if I don’t be drowned;

Yet if you will be plucky, men, and likewise well behaved,

We’ve got one chance in a thousand yet, but what we may be saved.

“About ten miles to leeward there lies the Guinea land,

And for fifty miles before it clear a narrow bar of sand;

And if we find a deepish place—as such of them there are—

It just is barely possible that we may clear the bar.”

Then we gave three cheers for our old man because we liked his dash,

And allowed ere we’d go to prison that we all would go to smash;

So then we set the wheel up with the steamer coming down,

And never a man did care a damn if he was going to drown.

Now as we came unto the bar I happened to remark

A spot among the waves on which the water it was dark;

And I showed it to the captain, who saw the place was fit,

And hollered to the helmsman to steer her straight for it.

Now just as we were working to this very closest shave,

There came by Heaven’s mercy a tremendous booming wave,

Which gave the barky such a lift, thanks to our lucky star,

That though we felt the bottom scrape—by God we crossed the bar!

And as we came in the still water we gave three roaring cheers,

For the rebel he was locked outside—of him we had no fears;

But I never shall forget until I come unto my grave,

How we were saved on the Guinea coast by the sea-light and the wave.

Chorus. Rolling over, rolling over, rolling on.

The roaring waves they came,

Like water into fire all gone,

For the sea was all of a flame.

Quoth Nat of Stonington, “That is a bruiser,

And yet I know darn’d well it could be done

With the third wave—but talking of a cruiser,

I know a song—’tis just a little one—

But first I would observe that a muskeeter

Is not an insect, for as you should know

The term’s applied unto a different creeter,

Which sails about the Gulf of Mexico.

Sometimes the thing is called a guard-accoster,[^[5]]

And when one did accost us with a gun,

Out of the way we ginerally tost her;

It ain’t hard work to make a greaser run.

Well, that’ll do. We got a song before us,

And them as likes may holler in the chorus.”

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[4]	This ballad was very much revised, corrected, turned over, and re-turned, by sundry old sailors, chief among whom was the ancient mariner, Captain Stead. Almost the same could be said of all these songs, but this one was specially “cut up and salted down for sea use.”

[5]	Guarda Costa.