Classic Poem

In the old back streets o' Pimlico
On the docks at Monte Video
At the Ring o' Bells on Plymouth Hoe
He'm arter me now wheerever I go.
An' dirty nights when the wind do blow
I can hear him sing-songin' up from sea — :
Oh! no man nor woman's bin friend to me
An' to-day I'm feared wheer to-morrow I'll be,
Sin' the night the moon lay whist and white
On the road goin' down to the Lizard Light
When I heard him hummin' behind me.

" Oh! look, boy, look in your sweetheart's eyes
— So deep as sea an' so blue as skies;
An' 'tis better to kiss than to chide her,
If they tell 'ee no tales, they'll tell'ee no lies
Of the little brown mouse
That creeps into the house
To lie sleepin' so quiet beside her.

" Oh! hold 'ee long, but hold 'ee light
20Your true man's hand when you find him,
He'll help 'ee home on a darksome night
Wi' a somethin' bright
That he'm holdin' tight
In the hand that he keeps behind him.

" Oh! sit 'ee down to your whack o' pies
So hot's the stew and the brew likewise
But whiles you'm scrapin' the plates and dishes,
A-gapin' down in the shiversome sea
For the delicate mossels inside o' we
Theer's a passel o' hungry fishes. "

At the Halte des Marins at Saint Nazaire
I cussed him, sittin' astride his chair;
An' Christmas Eve on the Mary Clare
I pitched him a-down the hatch-way stair.
But " Shoutin' and cloutin's nothin' to me,
Nor the hop nor the skip nor the jump, " says he,
" For I be walkin' on every quay . . . "

" So look, boy, look in the dear maid's eyes
And take the true man's hand,
And eat your fill o' your whack o' pies
Till you'm starin' up wheer the sea-crow flies
Wi' your head lyin' soft in the sand. "