(He was lying like a hatter, I could see).
"I was with him when the Frenchies' line we broke,
With our wooden ships and sailors' hearts of oak,
And the great three-decker's cannon's voice awoke,
Every minute as they thundered thro' the smoke."
"Oh, blow it!" said the sailor man to me
(His language, I admit, was rather free),
"Now you sends a black torpedo, and it seeks
To hit a wessel sideways—then she leaks,
And sinks while every sailor prays and shrieks,