Why does pouring Oil on the Sea make it Clear and Calm? Is it
that the winds, slipping the read more

Why does pouring Oil on the Sea make it Clear and Calm? Is it
that the winds, slipping the smooth oil, have no force, nor cause
any waves?

Yet the best pilots have need of mariners, besides sails, anchor
and other tackle.

Yet the best pilots have need of mariners, besides sails, anchor
and other tackle.

What though the sea be calm? trust to the shore,
Ships have been drown'd, where late they danc'd before.

What though the sea be calm? trust to the shore,
Ships have been drown'd, where late they danc'd before.

--They write here one Cornelius--Son
Hath made the Hollanders an invisible eel
To swim the haven at read more

--They write here one Cornelius--Son
Hath made the Hollanders an invisible eel
To swim the haven at Dunkirk, and sink all
The shipping there.
--But how is't done?
--I'll show you, sir.
It is automa, runs under water
With a snug nose, and has a nimble tail
Made like an auger, with which tail she wriggles
Betwixt the costs of a ship and sinks it straight.

A strong nor'wester's blowing, Bill!
Hark! don't ye hear it roar now?
Lord help 'em, how I read more

A strong nor'wester's blowing, Bill!
Hark! don't ye hear it roar now?
Lord help 'em, how I pities them
Unhappy folks on shore now!

Oh, I am a cook and a captain bold
And the mate of the Nancy brig,
And read more

Oh, I am a cook and a captain bold
And the mate of the Nancy brig,
And a bo'sun tight and a midshipmite
And the crew of the captain's gig.

Well, then--our course is chosen--spread the sail--
Heave oft the lead, and mark the soundings well--
Look read more

Well, then--our course is chosen--spread the sail--
Heave oft the lead, and mark the soundings well--
Look to the helm, good master--many a shoal
Marks this stern coast, and rocks, where sits the Siren
Who, like ambition, lures men to their ruin.

There's a sweet little cherub that sits up aloft,
To keep watch for the life of poor Jack.

There's a sweet little cherub that sits up aloft,
To keep watch for the life of poor Jack.

Some love to roam o'er the dark sea's foam,
Where the shrill winds whistle free.

Some love to roam o'er the dark sea's foam,
Where the shrill winds whistle free.