Classic Poem

Then farewel my trim-built wherry,
Oars, and coat, and badge farewel;
Never more at Chelsea ferry,
Shall your Thomas take a spell.

But to hope and peace a stranger,
In the battle's heat I'll go,
Where exposed to every danger,
Some friendly ball may lay me low.

III.

Then, may-hap, when homeward steering,
With the news my messmates come,
Even you, the story hearing,
With a sigh may cry poor Tom!