Classic Poem

It was a British Sailorman that sailed the Southern Seas,
With one eye out for Battle, and with one eye out for Breeze.
Now he was bound for Sydney Town, and sailed both night and day,
Until he ran into a Gale which whipped his sticks away.
He tried his blanked auxiliary, but couldn't make it budge;
And so he rigged a jury-mast, as well as he could judge.

The Bismarck Archipelago, he knew, was dead ahead;
He ran into a German Port — " and now we're done, " he said.
He couldn't use his handkerchief to wipe away his grief,
Because his little all was tied up in his handkerchief —
It is the way of Sailormen, and one of Nature's plans —
And so he sadly went in search of Yacob and of Hans.

" There is a fort on yonder hill, " unto his mates he said;
" Or was when I was this way last; the track is straight ahead.
We want terbaccer bad, and we must get it anyhow!
We ain't no Britishers no more; we're bloomin' Dutchmen now.
There's nothing else that we can do; the only course that's clear
Is Anti-Up to Sauer Kraut and get some lager beer. "

They'd scarely topped the mountain's brow when some began to laugh —
" Why! that's the bloomin' Unyun Jack wot's flyin' from the staff! "
The flag flew out both stiff and straight, and one said, with a grin:
" It's got some stars! — or bullet holes! I wonder where it's bin? "
But soon their eyes began to stare, their feet began to lag;
There was a bird they didn't know that stood beneath the flag.

And it was tall — some six-foot high — and it was lean and lank;
(It wasn't near the Philippines: It couldn't be a Yank!)
It had a long and scraggy throat, Its hair was stiff and thick,
And face, and neck, and hands, and ears were speckled like a brick.
It " coo-eed " ! but it wasn't this that made them halt and stare —
It wore the uniform of blue that men-o'-warsmen wear!

It held its cap in its left hand and softly scratched its neck —
They'd never gazed on such a " Jack " on any shore or deck.
It wore a doleful kind of grin that wrapped It as a whole,
Such as Australian Bushmen wear when there's no cause for dole.
It was the British Sailorman that spat, and stared and spat,
And muttered, underneath his breath: " Now, what in Flames is that? "

'Twas Jackson's Jim from Mudgee Town those seamen gazed upon;
He hailed them as " You Blanky Blokes " , and told them to come on
It was the blanked Orstralian Flag that waved above the spot,
And Sauer Kraut had gone, he said, but all the beer had not.
Those British Sailormen drank deep and sang 'neath moon and star —
It was the first time they had met a Kangaroo Jack Tar.