And fowls and geese did cackle,
And the cordage and the tackle
Began to shriek and crackle;

And the spray dashed o'er the funnels,

And down the deck in runnels;

And the rushing water soaks all,
From the seamen in the fo'ksal,

To the stokers whose black faces
Peer out of their bed-places;
And the captain he was bawling,
And the sailors pulling, hauling,
And the quarter-deck tarpauling
Was shivered in the squalling;
And the passengers awaken,
Most pitifully shaken;

And the steward jumps up, and hastens

For the necessary basins.

Then the Greeks they groaned and quivered,
And they knelt, and moaned, and shivered,
As the plunging waters met them,
And splashed and overset them;
And they called in their emergence
Upon countless saints and virgins;
And their marrowbones are bended,
And they think the world is ended.

And the Turkish women for'ard
Were frightened and behorrored;
And shrieking and bewildering,

The mothers clutched their children;
"Allah! Illah!

The men sung

Mashallah Bismillah!"

As the warring waters doused them, And splashed them and soused them; And they called upon the Prophet,

And thought but little of it.

Then all the fleas in Jewry
Jumped up and bit like fury;
And the progeny of Jacob
Did on the main-deck wake up,
(I wot those greasy Rabbins

Would never pay for cabins ;)

And each man moaned and jabbered in His filthy Jewish gabardine,

In woe and lamentation,

And howling consternation.

And the splashing water drenches

Their dirty brats and wenches ;

And they crawl from bales and benches,

In a hundred thousand stenches.

This was the white squall famous,
Which latterly o'ercame us,

And which all will well remember

On the 28th September;

When a Prussian captain of Lancers

(Those tight-laced, whiskered prancers) Came on the deck astonished,

By that wild squall admonished,

And wondering cried, “Potz tausend,
Wie ist der Stürm jetzt brausend?”
And looked at Captain Lewis,
Who calmly stood and blew his

Cigar in all the bustle,

And scorned the tempest's tussle ;

And oft we've thought hereafter
How he beat the storm to laughter;
For well he knew his vessel

With that vain wind could wrestle ;

And when a wreck we thought her,

And doomed ourselves to slaughter,

How gayly he fought her,

And through the hubbub brought her,

And as the tempest caught her,

Cried, "GEORGE! SOME BRANDY AND WATER!"

And when, its force expended, The harmless storm was ended, And as the sunrise splendid

Came blushing o'er the sea, I thought, as day was breaking, My little girls were waking, And smiling, and making

A prayer at home for me.