Treasure Island

Edwin James Brady

(7 August 1869 - 22 August 1952 / Carcoar / New South Wales)

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Lost and Given Over

A Mermaid’s not a human thing,
An’ courtin’ such is folly;
Of flesh an’ blood I’d rather sing,
What ain’t so melancholy.
Oh, Berta! Loo! Jaunita! Sue!
Here’s good luck to me and you—
Sing rally! ri-a-rally!
The seas is deep; the seas is wide;
But this I’ll prove whate’er betide,
I’m bully in the alley!
I’m bull-ee in our al-lee!

The Hooghli gal’er face is brown;
The Hilo gal is lazy;
The gal that lives by ’Obart town
She’d drive a dead man crazy;
Come, wet your lip, and let it slip!
The Gretna Green’s a tidy ship—
Sing rally!
The seas is deep; the seas is blue;
But ’ere’s good ’ealth to me and you,
Ho, rally!

The Lord may drop us off our pins
To feed ’is bloomin’ fishes;
But Lord forgive us for our sins—
Our sins is most delicious!
Come, drink it up and fill yer cup!
The world it owes us bite and sup,
And Mimi, Ju-Ju, Sally;
The seas is long; the winds is strong;
The best of men they will go wrong—
Hi, rally! ri-a-rally!

The Bowery gal she knows ’er know;
The Frisco gal is silly;
The Hayti gal ain’t white as snow—
They’re whiter down in Chili.
Now what’s the use to shun the booze?
They’ll flop your bones among the ooze
Sou’-west-by-Sou’ the galley.
The seas is green; the seas is cold;
The best of men they must grow old—
Sing rally! ri-a-rally!

All round the world where’er I roam,
This lesson I am learnin’:
If you’ve got sense you’ll stop at home
And save the bit yer earnin’.
So hang the odds! It’s little odds,
When every ’eathen ’as ’is gods,
And neither two will tally:
When black and white drink, wimmin, fight—
In these three things they’re all alright—
Sing rally! ri-a-rally!

When double bunks, Fo’castle end,
Is all the kind that’s carried,
Our manners they will likely mend—
Most likely we’ll be married.
But till sich time as that be done,
We’ll take our fun as we’ve begun—
Sing rally!
The flesh is weak; the world is wide;
The dead man ’e goes overside—
Sing rally! rally!

We’re given and lost to the girls that wait
From Trinity to Whitsund’y,
From Sunda Strait to the Golden Gate
An’ back to the Bay o’ Fundy;
Oh, it’s Mabel, Loo, an’ it’s Nancy-Poo,
An’ ’ere’s good luck, an’ I love you—
Sing rally!
Oh, it’s cents an’ dollars an’ somebody hollers—
The sun comes up an’ the mornin’ follers—
Sing rally!

We’re given an’ lost to the octoroon,
The Portugee cruiser painty,
The Chinkie gal with ’er eyes ’arf-moon,
An’ the Japanee darlin’ dainty.
Oh, it’s Tokio-town when the sun goes down,
It’s ’arf-a-pint and it’s ’arf-a-crown—
Sing rally!
’Er spars may lift an’ ’er keel can shift,
When a man is done ’e ’s got to drift—
Sing rally! Ho, rally!

The Hooghli gal ’er face is brown,
The Hilo gal’s a daisy,
The gal that lives by ’Obart town
She’d drive a dead man crazy.
So, pretty an’ plain, it’s Sarah Jane
’Uggin’ an’ kissin’ an’ ‘Come again!’
Sing rally! ri-a-rally!
The seas is deep; the seas is wide;
But this I’ll prove what else betide,
I’m bully in the alley,
Ho! Bullee in the Al-lee!

Submitted: Thursday, January 01, 2004

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