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,