And a horror of warfare and bloody strife.
While above the honors of seas and fleets
He prized his place on “the facing seats.”
Ah, Orasmus Nute,
Orasmus Nute,
He never disgraced his plain drab suit.
Now often he sailed for spice and teas
’Way off some place through the Barbary seas;
And once for a venture his good ship bore
Some unhung grindstones, a score or more.