Oh, a loafing, idle lubber to him
Is the sexton of the town;
but we must take a glance at the ballads, at the “Nancy’s Pride,” that went out
On the long slow heave of a lazy sea,
To the flap of an idle sail,
· · · · ·
and
… faded down
With her creaking boom a-swing,
Till a wind from the deep came up with a creep,