Running low on more interesting poems to post but here's a classic "greenhorn" one:

By Edwin J. Brady
From THE WAYS OF MANY WATERS, by Edwin J. Brady, published by The Bulletin Newspaper Co., Sydney, Australia, © 1899, pp. 121-124.

How Jack Bowlin Steered Jones

JACK BOWLIN wuz the joker's name,
A sailor chap wuz 'e,
Who left his ship, the Golden Flame ,
To run away from sea.
Jack Bowlin wuz the feller's sign,
No greener chap I do incline
To think you'd find than 'e.
'E kem to graft with Bill an' me
Last week at Cockatoo.
Sez Bill to me, "I bet," sez he,
We'll 'ave a lark or two:
This sailor bloke, what smells o' tar,
'E'll shortly find out where 'e are
Along o' me an' you!"
Sez I, "Ole man, that 's true;
We'll put this joker through."

So Bill 'e went an' saddled "Jones,"
An' whispered in 'is ear:
"Don't break this sailor's bleedin' bones,
But buck 'im good an' clear."
An' "Jones" 'e neighs 'is cunning neigh:
That 'orse 'e knows 'is blessed way
About, you needn't fear;
"Jones" wasn't born last year,
My oath, you needn't fear.

'E says to Jack, sez Bogan Bill:
"We don't get paid ter sleep,
So mount yer 'orse, an' then we will
Go out and count them sheep."
When Jack sees "Jones" 'e turned jist red:
"I ain't sailed 'orses much," 'e said;
"His decks is pretty steep;
Port 'ard and stiddy keep
Until I gets aboard!" An' Jack
'E grips the stirrup tight,
An' climbs on "Jones's" blessed back
Wrong foot instead of right.
Oh! Bill an' me 'ad like ter die,
For "Jones" 'e looked as meek as pie:
'E saw the joke all right.

But Jack 'e faced the 'orse's tail,
An' as 'e scratched 'is 'ead
"I'm 'anged if I can make 'im sail
Starn fust like this," 'e said.
An' then 'e turns an' shouts to us:
"Say, messmates, 'old the cuss
Until I get his rudder-head;
I'm green side up instead o' red!"
(Them wuz the very words 'e said.)

"I'll get about!" but "Jones" 'e saw
'Twas time to take a 'and;
'E 'adn't studied sailin' law,
But 'e could understand.
'E put 'is 'ead between 'is knees
An' chucked towards the bloomin' trees
His busted belly-band --
Oh! "Jones" could understand.

An' then 'e stood stock still, till Jack,
Who'd took a flyin' trip,
In 'arf-a-'our or so kem back
An' lit on "Jones's" hip.
Jack Bowlin's face was pale as death,
But soon as 'e could get 'is breath
He shouts: "Shove off! 'Bout ship!
Hey! Let 'is blank bow-anchor slip!"

"All 'ands aloft!" "His steerin' gear
Has gone to -- Inverell!"
"Jib-sheets blowed loose!" -- sich langwidge queer
I'm dashed if I could tell.
'Twas "Stiddy! Hard-a-lee!
Wo-back, you silly brute! Let go!
Port helm! Stand clear! Wo, Moses -- wo!
Beam seas! an' blank ground swell!"
I'm dashed if I could tell;
No more could Bill as well.

"Jones" 'eard 'is captain order 'im
"Go 'ard ahead! " an' went,
An' as 'e struck the sunset's rim
His blessed back unbent.
We see Jack sailin' through the sky,
An' may I -- strike me dry! --
If we know where 'e went;
We never got no scent
Of where that sailor went.

Poor Jack, 'e ain't come back as yet
To work at Cockatoo.
'E's flyin' still, I'm game to bet,
Acrost the 'eavens blue,
Or else 'e's got 'is 'arp an' crown,
An' thinks 'e'd better not come down
Till "Jones" 'as shifted through --
'Tis maybe better, too.

For "Jones" 'as never moved, I swear.
'Is 'ead between 'is knees:
That cunnin' 'orse is bravin' there
The battle an' the breeze.
'E waits all day, 'e waits all night,
'E waits, no doubt, for Jack to light
Oh! "Jones" 'is duty sees;
He'll brave the blessed breeze;
My oath, he is the cheese.

Notes

"As told by Barwon Joe."

"Graft" is slang for labor.

Charley Noble