NO. IV.—TO MARY.
Afloat, ashore, ahead, astern,
With winds propitious or contrary.
(I do not spin an idle yarn.)
No—no, belay! I love thee, Mary.
Amidships—on the Bentinck shrouds,
Athwart the hawse, astride the mizen,
Watching at night the fleecy clouds,
Your Harry wishes you were his'n.
Then let us heave the nuptial lead,
In Hymen's port our anchors weighing;
Thy face shall be the figure-head
Our ship shall always be displaying.
But when old age shall bid us luff,
Our honest tack will never vary,
But I'll continue Harry Bluff,
And thou my little light-built Mary.
