Electronic Books

"Be it frost or fire,
Thy bosom, I believed it warm:
I did aspire
For that, and my desire--
Burn thou or freeze--fought thro' and beat the storm.
"Thou, thou, that art
My sole salvation, fixed, afar,
I have no chart,
No compass but a heart
Hungry for thee and for no other star."
"Humph!" said I, by way of criticism, when these verses were shown to
me. "Where be the mackerel lines, Captain Jo? There's too much
love-talk aboard this ship of yours."
"Mackerel?" said Captain Jo. "Why, where's your bait?"
"You shall lend me an inch off your pipe-stem," said I, and, to tease
Nat, began to hum the senseless old song:
"She has ta'en a siller wand
An' gi'en strokes three,
An' chang'd my sister Masery
To a mack'rel of the sea.
And every Saturday at noon
The mack'rel comes to me,
An' she takes my laily head
An' lays it on her knee,
An' kames it wi' a kame o' pearl,
An' washes it i' the sea--"
"Mackerel?" said Captain Pomery.


Pages:
195 196 197 198 199 200 201 202 203 204 205 206 207 208 209 210 211 212 213 214 215 216 217 218 219