A Broadside: No. 7 Fourth Year
Title
A Broadside: No. 7 Fourth Year
Subject
Ireland
Dun Emer Press
Cuala Press
A Broadside
Irish Literary Revival
The Gaelic Revival
Description
PUBLISHED MONTHLY BY E. C. YEATS AT THE CUALA PRESS, CHURCHTOWN, DUNDRUM, COUNTY DUBLIN. SUBSCRIPTION TWELVE SHILLINGS A YEAR POST FREE.
300 copies only.
300 copies only.
The woodcut on page [3] has caption: "Pirate Sentry". Signed by Jack B. Yeats.
Creator
E. C. Yeats
Jack B. Yeats
Publisher
Cuala Press
Date
December, 1911
Text
THE FLASH FRIGATE
I sing of a frigate, a frigate of fame,
And in the West Indies she bore a great name
For cruel hard treatment of every degree,
Like slaves in the gallies we ploughed the salt sea.
At four in the morning our day's work's begun,
'Come lash up your hammocks, boys, ev-e-ry one,'
Seven turns with the lashing so equal must show,
And all of one size through a hoop they must go.
The next thing we do is to holystone decks,
Mizzen-topmen from the fore-hatch their buckets must fetch;
And it's 'Fore and main-top men' so loudly they bawl,
'Come broom aft the sand with your squilgees and all.'
The decks being scrubbed, and the rigging coiled down,
It is now, 'Clear your bright work,' which is found all around,
Your gun-caps and aprons so neatly must shine,
And in white frocks and trousers you must all toe a line.
The next thing we hear is 'All hands to make sail,'
'Way aloft.' and 'lay out,' and 'let fall' is the hail.
O your royals and your sky-sail, and your moonsails so high,
At the sound of the call they must all be let fly.
But now, my brave boys, comes the best of the fun;
'All hands about ship and reef topsails,' in one.
O it's lay aloft topmen,' as the hellum goes down,
And it's 'clew down your topsails,' as you 'let go and haul.'
Our senior lieutenant, you all know him well,
He comes upon deck, and he cuts a great swell.
O, it's 'bear a hand here, boys,' and 'mind what you're at,'
And at the lee gangway he serves out the cat.
There is no games aboard her, and so you will find,
If you spit on her decks, why, your death-warrant's signed.
So all you bold seamen who sail the salt sea,
Beware of this frigate wherever you be.
FROM A SLIGO RACE BALLAD
Now from a Dromahaire all will come there,
With the sportsmen of Sligo the country knows well,
There's Carney and Grange they onward will range,
And all the brave sportsmen around Lissadell.
Likewise, Mockarow will be here anyhow,
With Cliffoney and Tullaghan all here wil flock,
Like a shot of a cannon comes Ballyshannon,
With the Bundoran bathers and sporting Kinlough.
I sing of a frigate, a frigate of fame,
And in the West Indies she bore a great name
For cruel hard treatment of every degree,
Like slaves in the gallies we ploughed the salt sea.
At four in the morning our day's work's begun,
'Come lash up your hammocks, boys, ev-e-ry one,'
Seven turns with the lashing so equal must show,
And all of one size through a hoop they must go.
The next thing we do is to holystone decks,
Mizzen-topmen from the fore-hatch their buckets must fetch;
And it's 'Fore and main-top men' so loudly they bawl,
'Come broom aft the sand with your squilgees and all.'
The decks being scrubbed, and the rigging coiled down,
It is now, 'Clear your bright work,' which is found all around,
Your gun-caps and aprons so neatly must shine,
And in white frocks and trousers you must all toe a line.
The next thing we hear is 'All hands to make sail,'
'Way aloft.' and 'lay out,' and 'let fall' is the hail.
O your royals and your sky-sail, and your moonsails so high,
At the sound of the call they must all be let fly.
But now, my brave boys, comes the best of the fun;
'All hands about ship and reef topsails,' in one.
O it's lay aloft topmen,' as the hellum goes down,
And it's 'clew down your topsails,' as you 'let go and haul.'
Our senior lieutenant, you all know him well,
He comes upon deck, and he cuts a great swell.
O, it's 'bear a hand here, boys,' and 'mind what you're at,'
And at the lee gangway he serves out the cat.
There is no games aboard her, and so you will find,
If you spit on her decks, why, your death-warrant's signed.
So all you bold seamen who sail the salt sea,
Beware of this frigate wherever you be.
FROM A SLIGO RACE BALLAD
Now from a Dromahaire all will come there,
With the sportsmen of Sligo the country knows well,
There's Carney and Grange they onward will range,
And all the brave sportsmen around Lissadell.
Likewise, Mockarow will be here anyhow,
With Cliffoney and Tullaghan all here wil flock,
Like a shot of a cannon comes Ballyshannon,
With the Bundoran bathers and sporting Kinlough.
Original Format
Broadside
Files
Collection
Citation
E. C. Yeats and Jack B. Yeats, “A Broadside: No. 7 Fourth Year,” Linda Lear Center Digital Collections and Exhibitions, accessed November 21, 2024, https://lc-digital.conncoll.edu/items/show/1389.