Oi’ve wurrked me way, Oi’ve arrned me pay at haalin’ shates an’ braces;
On farrin’ shorres Oi’ve sot me eye on gurrls iv iv’ry nashin,
Me Yankee gurrl hes ne’er a mate throughhout th’ woid creashin!
Away, haal away, haal away, Joe!
—Copyright by the publisher, A. M. Robertson, San Francisco, and used by his kind permission.
BLACK SAILORS’ CHANTY
By Charles Keeler
Yo ho, ma hahties, da’s a hurricane a-brewin’,
Fo’ de cook he hasn’t nuffin fo’ de sailah-men a-stewin’,—