"GRAN' BOULE"
A SEAMAN'S TALE OF THE SEA
We men hat go down for a livin' in ships to the sea,--
We love it a different way from you poets that 'bide on the land.
We are fond of it, sure! But, you take it as comin' from me,
There's a fear and a hate in our love that a landsman can't understand.
Oh, who could help likin' the salty smell, and the blue
Of the waves that are lazily breathin' as if they dreamed in the sun?
She's a Sleepin' Beauty, the sea,--but you can't tell what she'll do;
And the seamen never trust her,--they know too well what she's done!
She's a wench like one that I saw in a singin'-play,--
Carmen they called her,--Lord, what a life her lovers did lead!
She'd cuddle and kiss you, and sing you and dance you away;
And then,--she'd curse you, and break you, and throw you down like a
weed.
You may chance it awhile with the girls like that, if you please;
But you want a woman to trust when you settle down with a wife;
And a seaman's thought of growin' old at his ease
Is a snug little house on the land to shelter the rest of his life.
So that was old Poisson's dream,--did you know the Cap'?
A brown little Frenchman, clever, and brave, and quick as a fish,--
Had a wife and kids on the other side of the map,--
And a rose-covered cottage for them and him was his darlin' wish.
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