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It winds can whistle, he can sing, Still faithful to his friends and King, He gets beloved by all his ship And toasts his girl, and drinks his slip.

Poor Jack.

Go patter to lubbers, and swabs, d'ye see, 'bout danger, and fear, and the like; A water-tight boat, and good see-room give m and it a'ent to a little I'll strike; Tho' the tempest top-gallant masts smack smo should smite. and sh ver each splinter of wood, Clear the deck, sow the yards, and howse ever thing tight, and under reef d foresail, we'll scud: Avast nor con't think me a milk-sop so soft, to be taken for trifles a-back, For they say there's a Providence sits up aloft, to keep watch for the life of Poor Jack

Why I heard the good Chaplain palaver one d about souls, heaven, mercy, and such: And, my timbers-what lingo he'd coil and b lay, why 'twas just all as one as High Dutch. But he said how a sparrow can't founder, d'ye see, without orders that comes down below, And many one things that prov'd clearly to m that Providence takes us in tow.