The Descent of Timothy.
Tim crawl’d on board; no phiz e’er sadder;
Stepp’d backward down the coal-black ladder;
Then twisting sidelong, like a crab, in,
Stagger’d into the after cabin.
Him spied the dog of Newfoundland,
That by a bulk-head chanced to stand;
His chaps, whence fat and froth distill’d,
With well-gnaw’d bones of bull-beef fill’d.
Straight with neck upstretch’d he howls,