Songs from Books Part 29

Then up and spoke the plumbyers bold, Which was laying the pipes for the hot and cold: 'Since you with us have made so free, Will you kindly say what your name might be?'

The young man kindly answered them: 'It might be Lot or Methusalem, Or it might be Moses (a man I hate), Whereas it is Pharaoh surnamed the Great.

'Your glazing is new and your plumbing's strange, But otherwise I perceive no change, And in less than a month if you do as I bid I'd learn you to build me a Pyramid!'

The Sailor:

_I tell this tale, which is stricter true, Just by way of convincing you How very little, since things was made, Things have altered in the s.h.i.+pwright's trade._

In Blackwall Basin yesterday A China barque re-fitting lay, When a fat old man with snow-white hair Came up to watch us working there.

Now there wasn't a knot which the riggers knew But the old man made it--and better too; Nor there wasn't a sheet, or a lift, or a brace.

But the old man knew its lead and place.

Then up and spoke the caulkyers bold, Which was packing the pump in the afterhold: 'Since you with us have made so free, Will you kindly tell what your name might be?'

The old man kindly answered them: 'It might be j.a.pheth, it might be Shem, Or it might be Ham (though his skin was dark), Whereas it is Noah, commanding the Ark.

'Your wheel is new and your pumps are strange, But otherwise I perceive no change, And in less than a week, if she did not ground, I'd sail this hooker the wide world round!'

Both:

_We tell these tales, which are strictest true, Just by way of convincing you How very little, since things was made, Anything alters in any one's trade._

A SMUGGLER'S SONG

If you wake at midnight, and hear a horse's feet, Don't go drawing back the blind, or looking in the street.

Them that asks no questions isn't told a lie, Watch the wall, my darling, while the Gentlemen go by!

Five and twenty ponies, Trotting through the dark-- Brandy for the Parson, 'Baccy for the Clerk; Laces for a lady, letters for a spy, And watch the wall, my darling, while the Gentlemen go by!

Running round the woodlump if you chance to find Little barrels, roped and tarred, all full of brandy-wine, Don't you shout to come and look, nor use 'em for your play.

Put the brishwood back again--and they'll be gone next day!

If you see the stable-door setting open wide; If you see a tired horse lying down inside; If your mother mends a coat cut about and tore; If the lining's wet and warm--don't you ask no more!

If you meet King George's men, dressed in blue and red, You be careful what you say, and mindful what is said.

If they call you 'pretty maid,' and chuck you 'neath the chin.

Don't you tell where no one is, nor yet where no one's been!

Knocks and footsteps round the house--whistles after dark-- You've no call for running out till the house-dogs bark.

_Trusty's_ here, and _Pinchers_ here, and see how dumb they lie-- _They_ don't fret to follow when the Gentlemen go by!

If you do as you've been told, 'likely there's a chance, You'll be give a dainty doll, all the way from France, With a cap of Valenciennes, and a velvet hood-- A present from the Gentlemen, along o' being good!

Five and twenty ponies, Trotting through the dark-- Brandy for the Parson, 'Baccy for the Clerk.

Them that asks no questions isn't told a lie-- Watch the wall, my darling, while the Gentlemen go by!

KING HENRY VII. AND THE s.h.i.+PWRIGHTS

(A.D. 1487)

Harry, our King in England, from London town is gone, And comen to Hamull on the Hoke in the countie of Suthampton.

For there lay _The Mary of the Tower_, his s.h.i.+p of war so strong, And he would discover, certaynely, if his s.h.i.+pwrights did him wrong.

He told not none of his setting forth, nor yet where he would go (But only my Lord of Arundel), and meanly did he show, In an old jerkin and patched hose that no man might him mark; With his frieze hood and cloak above, he looked like any clerk.

He was at Hamull on the Hoke about the hour of the tide.

And saw the _Mary_ haled into dock, the winter to abide, With all her tackle and habiliments which are the King his own; But then ran on his false s.h.i.+pwrights and stripped her to the bone.

They heaved the main-mast overboard, that was of a trusty tree, And they wrote down it was spent and lost by force of weather at sea.

But they sawen it into planks and strakes as far as it might go, To maken beds for their own wives and little children also.

There was a knave called Slingawai, he crope beneath the deck.

Crying: 'Good felawes, come and see! The s.h.i.+p is nigh a wreck!

For the storm that took our tall main-mast, it blew so fierce and fell, Alack! it hath taken the kettles and pans, and this bra.s.s pott as well!'

With that he set the pott on his head and hied him up the hatch, While all the s.h.i.+pwrights ran below to find what they might s.n.a.t.c.h; All except Bob Brygandyne and he was a yeoman good, He caught Slingawai round the waist and threw him on to the mud.

'I have taken plank and rope and nail, without the King his leave, After the custom of Portesmouth, but I will not suffer a thief.

Nay, never lift up thy hand at me! There's no clean hands in the trade-- Steal in measure,' quo' Brygandyne. 'There's measure in all things made!'

'Gramercy, yeoman!' said our King. 'Thy council liketh me.'

And he pulled a whistle out of his neck and whistled whistles three.

Then came my Lord of Arundel p.r.i.c.king across the down, And behind him the Mayor and Burgesses of merry Suthampton town.

They drew the naughty s.h.i.+pwrights up, with the kettles in their hands, And bound them round the forecastle to wait the King's commands.

But 'Since ye have made your beds,' said the King, 'ye needs must lie thereon.

For the sake of your wives and little ones--felawes, get you gone!'

When they had beaten Slingawai, out of his own lips Our King appointed Brygandyne to be Clerk of all his s.h.i.+ps.

'Nay, never lift up thy hands to me--there's no clean hands in the trade.

But steal in measure,' said Harry our King. 'There's measure in all things made!'

_G.o.d speed the 'Mary of the Tower,' the 'Sovereign,' and 'Grace Dieu,'

The 'Sweepstakes' and the 'Mary Fortune,' and the 'Henry of Bristol' too!

All tall s.h.i.+ps that sail on, the sea, or in our harbours stand, That they may keep measure with Harry our King and peace in Engeland!_

THE WET LITANY