'TWAS on the shores that round our coast
                From Deal to Ramsgate span,
                That I found alone on a piece of stone
                An elderly naval man.

                His hair was weedy, his beard was long,
                And weedy and long was he,
                And I heard this wight on the shore recite,
                In a singular minor key:

                "Oh, I am a cook and a captain bold,
                And the mate of the NANCY brig,
                And a bo'sun tight, and a midshipmite,
                And the crew of the captain's gig."

                And he shook his fists and he tore his hair,
                Till I really felt afraid,
                For I couldn't help thinking the man had been drinking,
                And so I simply said:
               
               "Oh, elderly man, it's little I know
                Of the duties of men of the sea,
                And I'll eat my hand if I understand
                However you can be

                "At once a cook, and a captain bold,
                And the mate of the NANCY brig,
                And a bo'sun tight, and a midshipmite,
                And the crew of the captain's gig."