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C J Dennis - A Chantey of Labor`s Lost
Work rating: Low

There on the quay sobbed Bones, A.B.,
   And he took me by the hand.
Says he to me, "I’ve quit the sea
   An’ I’m huntin’ a berth on land.
‘Er doom ‘as come; an’ the days o’ rum,
   Salt-‘orse an’ tar is over;
For these is the days of the popinjays
   An’ the end of the deep-sea rover –-
                                 Oh,
Them tough ole, rough ole, rollicking lads
   The shell-back, deep-sea rover.

"They’ve finished with me," says Bones, A.B.,
   "For they’ve finished with seamanship.
What they’re shippin’ of late is a milliner’s mate
   With a housemaid’s mop on the ‘ip.
But ask ‘im the rig of a barque or a brig,
   Or the toons of the chanteys sung
By a buck he-male in the days of sail
   When me an’ me mates was young –-
                                  Oh,
Them mad ole, bad ole, rollicking days
   When mates an’ the world was young.

"Before ‘e was born I’d rounded the Horn
   Ten times in ships o’ sail,
Close-reefed an’ fast in the bellerin’ blast
   Of the mother-in-law of a gale.
Bare-decked I been, an’ wrecked I been,
   Mate-hazed, marooned, shanghai-ed.
But shiver me gob, I knoo me job
   In the days when the seas was wide –-
                                   Oh,
Them reckless, feckless, rollicking days
   When faith and the seas was wide.

"So I’m leavin’ the sea," says Bones, A.B.,
   "For the sea don’t need me now.
An’ I’m shapin’ a course to valet a ‘orse
   Or coddle a milkin’ cow.
All that they asks of shipboard tasks
   Is a dood of a doll’s-eye weaver;
An’ I’m missin’ ‘em bad; them mates I ‘ad
   So lovin’ the sea they leave ‘er –-
                                    Oh,
Them tearin’, swearin’, devil-may-carin’,
   Lovable lads wot leave ‘er."
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