BALLAD -- RALPH
A maiden fair to see,
The pearl of minstrelsy,
A bud of blushing beauty;
For whom proud nobles sigh,
And with each other vie
To do her menial's duty.
ALL. To do her menial's duty.
A suitor, lowly born,
With hopeless passion torn,
And poor beyond denying,
Has dared for her to pine
At whose exalted shrine
A world of wealth is sighing.
ALL. A world of wealth is sighing.
Unlearned he in aught
Save that which love has taught
(For love had been his tutor);
Oh, pity, pity me--
Our captain's daughter she,
And I that lowly suitor!
ALL. And he that lowly suitor!
BOAT. Ah, my poor lad, you've climbed too high: our worthy
captain's child won't have nothin' to say to a poor chap like
you. Will she, lads?
ALL. No, no.
d***. No, no, captains' daughters don't marry foremast
hands.
ALL (recoiling from him). Shame! shame!
BOAT. d*** Deadeye, them sentiments o' yourn are a disgrace
to our common natur'.
RALPH. But it's a strange anomaly, that the daughter of a
man who hails from the quarter-deck may not love another who lays
out on the fore-yard arm. For a man is but a man, whether he
hoists his flag at the main-truck or his slacks on the main-deck.
d***. Ah, it's a queer world!
RALPH. d*** Deadeye, I have no desire to press hardly on
you, but such a revolutionary sentiment is enough to make an
honest sailor shudder.
BOAT. My lads, our gallant captain has come on deck; let us
greet him as so brave an officer and so gallant a seaman
deserves.
A maiden fair to see,
The pearl of minstrelsy,
A bud of blushing beauty;
For whom proud nobles sigh,
And with each other vie
To do her menial's duty.
ALL. To do her menial's duty.
A suitor, lowly born,
With hopeless passion torn,
And poor beyond denying,
Has dared for her to pine
At whose exalted shrine
A world of wealth is sighing.
ALL. A world of wealth is sighing.
Unlearned he in aught
Save that which love has taught
(For love had been his tutor);
Oh, pity, pity me--
Our captain's daughter she,
And I that lowly suitor!
ALL. And he that lowly suitor!
BOAT. Ah, my poor lad, you've climbed too high: our worthy
captain's child won't have nothin' to say to a poor chap like
you. Will she, lads?
ALL. No, no.
d***. No, no, captains' daughters don't marry foremast
hands.
ALL (recoiling from him). Shame! shame!
BOAT. d*** Deadeye, them sentiments o' yourn are a disgrace
to our common natur'.
RALPH. But it's a strange anomaly, that the daughter of a
man who hails from the quarter-deck may not love another who lays
out on the fore-yard arm. For a man is but a man, whether he
hoists his flag at the main-truck or his slacks on the main-deck.
d***. Ah, it's a queer world!
RALPH. d*** Deadeye, I have no desire to press hardly on
you, but such a revolutionary sentiment is enough to make an
honest sailor shudder.
BOAT. My lads, our gallant captain has come on deck; let us
greet him as so brave an officer and so gallant a seaman
deserves.