Page:Poems for the Sea.djvu/107

Rh I'll wish for them a better mind, And sing my merriest song.

Here, in our small forecastle Where there's scarcely room to spare To stow away the chest and cot, There's none for spite or care.

And so, all tight from stem to stern I'd show an honest face, And have my chart without a blot Of hatred to my race.

And when my task seems hardest And storms arouse in might I'll throw my self-love overboard To make the cargo light.

So, come, my hearties, one and all, Good comrades, true and dear, Let's do what's right, both day and night, And keep the log-book clear.