Old Pew had a jerk with a long-handled dirk—
His choice was a jab in the dark—
And Morgan's crew, 'twixt me and you,
Considered a rope a lark.
But a prettier end, I repeat and contend—
And I 've sailed on every sea—
Is a plunge off the side in the foamin' tide.
It tickles a sailor like me.

Darlin': Duke, does yer happen ter have a wife?

Duke: (deeply engaged). Some tunes is hard, so I jest makes 'em up as I goes along.

Blackbeard had a knife which he stuck in his wife.
Fer naggin', says he ter me—

Darlin': Has yer a wife? A wife as might turn up, I mean.

Duke: Say it agin, Darlin'.

Darlin': Most sailors has wives o' course, strewed here and there from Bristol to Guinea—jest ter make all ports cozy. So 's yer goin' home ter a 'appy family, no matter where yer steers.

Duke: It 's comfertable, Darlin'—I 'll not deny it—when yer heads ter harbor to see a winkin' candle in a winder on a hill, and know that a faithful wife and a couple o' leetle pirates is waitin' ter hug yer.

Darlin': I says so, Duke. I 've been a wife meself on and off, with husbands sailin' in and out—kissin' yer and 'oistin' sail. Roundabout, I says, makes 'appy marriages. Has yer a wife, Duke—livin', as yer can remember?

Duke: Yer a bold, for'ard creature. Are yer proposin' ter me?