The barge she sat in, like a burnished throne,
Burned on the water: the poop was beaten gold;
read more

The barge she sat in, like a burnished throne,
Burned on the water: the poop was beaten gold;
Purple the sails, and so perfumed that
The winds were lovesick with them; the oars were silver,
Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke, and made
The water which they beat to follow faster,
As amorous of their strokes.

Build me straight. O worthy Master!
Staunch and strong, a goodly vessel
That shall laugh at all read more

Build me straight. O worthy Master!
Staunch and strong, a goodly vessel
That shall laugh at all disaster,
And with wave and whirlwind wrestle!

She comes majestic with her swelling sails,
The gallant Ship: along her watery way,
Homeward she drives read more

She comes majestic with her swelling sails,
The gallant Ship: along her watery way,
Homeward she drives before the favouring gales;
Now flirting at their length the streamers play,
And now they ripple with the ruffling breeze.

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.

Being in a ship is being in a jail, with the chance of being
drowned.

Being in a ship is being in a jail, with the chance of being
drowned.

Her plates are scarred by the sun, dear lass,
And her ropes are taut with the dew,
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Her plates are scarred by the sun, dear lass,
And her ropes are taut with the dew,
For we're booming down on the old trail, our own trail, the out
trail,
We're sagging south on the Long Trail, the trail that is always
new.

For why drives on that ship so fast,
Without or wave or wind?
The air is cut read more

For why drives on that ship so fast,
Without or wave or wind?
The air is cut away before,
And closes from behind.

It would have been as though he [President Andrew Johnson] were
in a boat of stone with masts of read more

It would have been as though he [President Andrew Johnson] were
in a boat of stone with masts of steel, sails of lead, ropes of
iron, the devil at the helm, the wrath of God for a breeze, and
hell for his destination.

And the stately ships go on
To their haven under the hill.

And the stately ships go on
To their haven under the hill.