THE WHITE SQUALL
On deck, beneath the awning, I dozing lay and yawning; It was the grey
of dawning, Ere yet the sun arose; And above the funnel’s roaring, And
the fitful wind’s deploring, I heard the cabin snoring With universal
nose. I could hear the passengers snorting, I envied their disporting:
Vainly I was courting The pleasure of a doze.
So I lay, and wondered why light Came not, and watched the twilight And
the glimmer of the skylight, That shot across the deck; And the
binnacle pale and steady, And the dull glimpse of the dead-eye, And the
sparks in fiery eddy, That whirled from the chimney neck: In our jovial
floating prison There was sleep from fore to mizen, And never a star
had risen The hazy sky to speck.
Strange company we harboured; We’d a hundred Jews to larboard,
Unwashed, uncombed, uubarbered, Jews black, and brown, and grey; With
terror it would seize ye, And make your souls uneasy, To see those
Rabbis greasy, Who did nought but scratch and pray: Their dirty
children pucking, Their dirty saucepans cooking, Their dirty fingers
hooking Their swarming fleas away.
To starboard Turks and Greeks were, Whiskered, and brown their cheeks
were, Enormous wide their breeks were, Their pipes did puff alway; Each
on his mat allotted, In silence smoked and squatted, Whilst round their
children trotted In pretty, pleasant play. He can’t but smile who
traces The smiles on those brown faces, And the pretty prattling graces
Of those small heathens gay.
And so the hours kept tolling, And through the ocean rolling, Went the
brave “Iberia” bowling Before the break of day - When a SQUALL upon a
sudden Came o’er the waters scudding; And the clouds began to gather,
And the sea was lashed to lather, And the lowering thunder grumbled,
And the lightning jumped and tumbled, And the ship, and all the ocean,
Woke up in wild commotion.
Then the wind set up a howling, And the poodle-dog a yowling, And the
cocks began a crowing, And the old cow raised a lowing, As she heard
the tempest blowing; 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 call 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 behorror’d; And,
shrieking and bewildering, The mothers clutched their children; The men
sung, “Allah Illah! 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 gaberdine, 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,
“Potztausend! Wie ist der Sturm 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 thereafter 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 gaily 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.