THE YARN OF THE "NANCY BELL."
'Twas on the shores that round our coastFrom Deal to Ramsgate span,That I found alone, on a piece of stone,An elderly naval man.
His hair was weedy, his beard was long,And weedy and long was he,And I heard this wight on the shore recite,In a singular minor key:
"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."
And he...
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