THE CAPTAIN OF THE "PARIS."
Captain Sharp, of the Newhaven steamer, Paris, you're no craven;
Grim and growling was the gale that you from your dead reckoning bore;
And, but for your brave behaving, she might never have made haven,
But have foundered in mid-Channel, or been wrecked on a lee-shore.
With your paddle-floats unfeathered, wonder was it that you weathered
Such a storm as that of Sunday, which upset our nerves on land,
Though in fire-side comfort tethered. How it blew, and blared, and blethered!
All your passengers, my Captain, say your pluck and skill were grand.
Much to men like you is owing, when wild storms around are blowing,
As they seem to have been doing since the opening of the year:
Howling, hailing, sleeting, snowing; but for captains calm and knowing,
Passage of our angry Channel were indeed a task of fear.
Well, you brought them safely through it, when not every man could do it,
And your passengers, my Captain, are inspired with gratitude.
Therefore, Mr. Punch thus thanks you, and right readily enranks you,
As a hero on the record of our briny island brood.
Verily the choice of "Paris" in this case proved right; and rare is
Fitness between name and nature such as that you illustrate.
Captain Sharp! A proper nomen, and it proved a prosperous omen
To your passengers, whom Punch must on their luck congratulate.
On Board the Channel Steamer "Paris"
(Night of Saturday, January 25, 1890).—"Sharp's the word!"
