The last thing I remember was a spot of dirty weather and the captain yelling
through his beard ! The next time I saw sunlight, my face and fingers didn’t
feel right ! There was a pint of briny stowed in either ear ! Bits of boat and
sail confused a glassy sea. Though much abused, the tempest, in the end,
had let me live ! Floating cold and dead, the captains sideboard knocked
against my head! Inside were rum and a soaking crust of bread !
Oh! Hey-ho for the captains sideboard !
Come evening time a reddened eye gazed down and set the seas awry !
The stirring surge revealed a thick-tongued cry ! Not alone; a bubbling moan !
I likened it to pale-blue toes? Just there! A pale-blue face oer pale-blue
bones !
Oh! Hey-ho for the corpse of Feyrac !
The semi-buoyant first-mate had expired, met a dampened fate! But he blinked
and swam, at least, at a mortal rate. He beckoned me, where could I run?
He asked if I knew how far hed come. The captain had sent him up to fetch the
rum !
Oh! Hey-ho, for the drowned are thirsty !
I wondered if a ghost could drink the ghost of rum, for the bottle tinkled
clear and empty; I was long since done. He waited there, I scratched my hair;
I needed rum but how and where? I longed to cut away but hardly dared!
Old Feyracs drowned and swimming face implied the course was clear.
My fate was death at sea, and I was late. Standing, knife in hand,
I plunged the blade into my stomach and the fount was bottled up,
as Feyrac planned
Oh ! And I went to join my Captain !