I yarned with ancient shipmen beside the galley rangeAnd some were fond of women, but all were fond of change;They sang their quavering chanties, all in a fo'c's'le drone,And I was finely suited, if I had only known.I rested in an ale-house that had a sanded floor,Where seamen sat a-drinking and chalking up the score;They yarned of ships and mermaids, of topsail sheets and slings,But I was discontented; I looked for better things.I heard a drunken fiddler, in Billy Lee's Saloon,I brooked an empty belly with thinking of the tune:I swung the doors disgusted as drunkards rose to dance,And now I know the music was life and life's romance.
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