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SEA SONGS. 13
Whatever is the weather,
In calm or breeze or storm, Wherever you may sail or walk,
Let your clime be cold or warm, Whether you be crossed or happy,
You can treat all as a joke While in your lips you hold a pipe ;
Oh, there's nothing like a smoke !
They say, some white-faced landsmen
At 'bacca make a fuss; It may hurt such as they are,
But it's meat and drink to us • Weak stomachs may kick at it;
But that's to us a joke ; We leave all that to landsmen ;
Oh, there nothing like a smoke !