Without a bit of sail.
And as upon its onward flight
The steamer cut the wave,
My crew I've order'd left and right,
My stout—my few—my brave!
NO. IV.—TO MARY.
Afloat, ashore, ahead, astern,
With winds propitious or contrary.
(I do not spin an idle yarn.)
No—no, belay! I love thee, Mary.