Select Poetry. THE WHALER FLEET.

Otago Witness, Issue 697, 8 April 1865, Page 15

Select Poetry. THE WHALER FLEET.

Full merrily sail'd our whaler fleet When the wind blew out to sea ; And many a cne came forth to greet Each good ship's company.* For then- was tht> Dove and the Good Intent (lloiv tiii' wind b,i-iv out toy.t!) Anil the i'ollv o' with her bran- new sub; * But the .Mary Jane for me ! Oh, Captain Thwaites of the Alary Jane, Wh mi ilni ln- \unil bo.v out to s -,i, Full many a time bis ship had sailed, Full many a time had he. lie has Jack of Grosmout and Tom o' theMai th (How the wind blew out to sea!) And Handsome Jim from Havburn Wyke ; But 'twas Robin Hood Wiil for me. My Willy lie kis?'d me before them all, When the wind blew out to sea; My Willy lie sto:d the last on deck A-waviug his cap to me. So off they sail'd out over the main, While tiie wind blew out to sea; Till the ice was all under their be m.ed bows, And the ice drove under their lee. Tlie months they went and the months they came, And the wind blew bird at sea; And many n time in the stormy nights My mammy she wept with me. But when the harvest moon came round, And the wind blew in from sea, 'Twas meirily came our whaler fleet All home from the north country. The folk they call'd and tlie folk they ran, And the wind blew in from sea ; From the thick of the town to the lighthouse tower. J Twas throng as throng could be. I saw them atop of the old church stairs, "When, the wind blew in from sea ; And the waves danced under their beamed bows, And the foam fiew under their lee. I saw them at foot of the old church stairs, When the wind blew in from sea ; And the foremost ship of our whaler fleet Was rounding the lighthouse quay. Oh there's the Dove and the Good Intent, (Still the wind blows in from sea), And the red red s >ils of the Polly o' Sleights — Her men are plain to see. Now every each hath pass'd the bar, And tiie wind blows in from sea ; And every each in harbor lies, Right iip against the quay. But where, oh where, is the Mary Jane, JN r ow the wind blows in from sea ? There's many a lad hitb dipt his lass, And when doth my lad clip me? " Oh tell me where is the Mary Jane, For the wind Wows in from sea 1" '•'The Mary Jane went down by her head With all" her company \" Now take me home to my mammy so dear, Though the wind blows in from sea; There's never a billow rolls over my lad, But I wish it ro I'd over me ! And take me home, for I care not now If the wind blows in from sea : My Willy he lies in the deeps of the dead, But his heart lives on in me. Arthur J. Munby. . o A CHRISTMAS LECTURE. Enraged Spouse, loquitur. So this is how you treat me, after all you vow'd and swore When I became your willing slave !—l'll! — I'll bear it. sir, no more ! You ciuel, mean, hard-hearted wretch! I wonder how you dai-e To torture tluis my feelings ! —You're a monster, I declare, Oh! hand I only dreamt of this when I was free and single, You'd ne'er have coax'd and cozened me to change my name to Prinsle. A pretty mess I made of it when I accepted you, Just to be snarl'd and grumbled at, whatever I might do. You say I'm always dunning you for dresses, cloaks, or ribbons, Just for the sake of cutting out our neighbor, Mrs Gibbons. 'Tis false ! and I defy yon, sir, to prove me vain or wasteful. Such base insinuations are, to say the least, disgraceful. But wbere's the use of wasting breath on such a stingy miser, Who only took a wife for all who knew her to despise her, — Who grudges her at Christmas-time two guineas for a bonnet, Such meanness won't be tamely borne by me, depend upon it ! Now, mark me, husband !— ponder well before you give your answer — This is my final, fiira resolve ; and, mind, I'm no romancer ! Henceforth I'll have a pound a-week for what you call " excesses," — That's thirteen pound per quarter, just for bonnets, cloaks, and dresses; Or, this is your alternative — choose quickly one or t'other I'll claim a separate maintenance, and go and live with mother. Banbury Cross.

Linen.— What proof exists that Prince Arthur, King John's nephew, possessed a large stock of linen? Because Shakspere, who was blankversed in tlie history of that time, makes the unfortunate l)oy, when meditating a departure from England, say, " I'll find a thousand shifts to get away." It is improbable that these were grandma's. They were consequently sent by Hubert to Ins uncle, who lost them in the Wash.