To heave her head round on the t'other tack;
But when I starts,
The leather parts,
And goes away right over by the ears!
What could a fellow do,
Whose legs, like mine, you know, we're in the bilboes,
But trim myself upright for bringing-to,
And square his yard-arms, and brace up his elbows,
In rig all snug and clever,
Just while his craft was taking in her water?