The Wreck Of The Hystericus, Page 1 Of 2 Poem by John Bliven Morin

The Wreck Of The Hystericus, Page 1 Of 2



A naughty parody of Longfellow’s
Wreck of the Hesperus

It was the ship Hystericus
That sailed throughout the storm,
And the Cap’n took his fav’rite gal
To keep his cockles warm.

Her eyes were blue, but green her face
Since leaving the port landing;
Her long, blonde curls hung daintily,
Her bosoms were outstanding.

The Cap’n stood beside the wheel
And spun it left, then right;
He kept his whiskey close beside,
A-sailing through the night.

Up spake an old sailor
“A storm is coming true;
I’d like to sleep with yonder lass
Before this ship is through.”

The Cap’n, he laughed a scornful laugh
“That woman is just for me!
Go check the barnacles on the keel! ”
and tossed him in the sea.

Down came the storm, and fiercely blew
From west and south and east;
“Don’t worry, ” the Cap’n told the girl,
“The north is calm at least! ”

“I’m cold, ” she whined, so the Cap’n took
His coat and covered her body,
And lashed her to the mainmast tight,
Thinking “Later we can party! ”

The Hystericus bobbed upon that sea
Like a cork in a flushing loo,
Till a crushing wave crashed over the side
And washed away the crew.

“Oh, Cap’n, I hear the sound of guns,
And the sound of a funeral knell.”
“It’s only the surf on the jagged reef,
And the shallow-water bell.”

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John Bliven Morin

John Bliven Morin

New London, CT
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