Tale of the Jolly Mariner

From the Omaha Daily Bee, June 17, 1913.
 

 He was a jolly mariner
     That sailed the seven seas;
 By skill and pluck and sheer good luck
     He had escaped disease,
 And death in strife by gun and knife
     And other things like these.
 
 Alas! This gallant sailor man
     Was knocked down by a car!
 “You’ll soon be dead,” the doctor said,
     “Perhaps there’s one afar
 To whom you’d send some word, my friend.”
     Up spake the gallant tar:
 
 “You take this message, mate,” he said,
     “Ere I my moorin’ slips.
 And find my bride and say I died
     With her name on my lips!
 Her name, you say? Well, one is May;
     But I’ve sailed several trips!
 
 “There’s Sally Brown, of Dover town,
     And Milly, Jane and Nell;
 If you will look in that there book
     You’ll find out where they dwell.
 There is a score, or maybe more—
     You won’t? Then I’ll get well!”
 
 He was a jolly mariner
     That rose up, strong and fit,
 And then, said he, “Well, hully gee!
     I’m bruised a little bit;
 But I’ve my life and nary a wife
     Is left a widow yit!”