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Joe Golightly
or, The First Lord's Daughter
Fun, n.s. VI - 12 October 1867
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The First Lord's daughter, proud, | |
Snubbed Earls and Viscounts nightly; | |
She sneered at Barts. aloud, | |
And spurned poor JOE GOLIGHTLY. |
Whene'er he sailed afar | |
Upon a Channel cruise, he | |
Unpacked his light guitar | |
And sang this ballad (Boosey): |
Ballad. | |
The moon is on the sea, | |
Willow! | |
The wind blows towards the lee, | |
Willow! | |
But though I sigh and sob and cry, | |
No Lady Jane for me, | |
Willow! |
She says, "'Twere folly quite, | |
Willow! | |
For me to wed a wight, | |
Willow! | |
Whose lot is cast before the mast"; | |
And possibly she's right, | |
Willow! |
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But still the stricken cad, | |
Aloft or on his pillow, | |
Howled forth in accents sad | |
His aggravating "Willow!" |
Stern love of duty had | |
Been JOYCE'S chiefest beauty; | |
Says he, "I love that lad, | |
But duty, damme! duty! |
"Twelve years' black-hole, I say, | |
Where daylight never flashes; | |
And always twice a day | |
Five hundred thousand lashes!" |
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That sailor to that Lord | |
Went, soon as he had landed, | |
And of his own accord | |
An interview demanded. |
Says he, with seaman's roll, | |
"My Captain (wot's a Tartar) | |
Guv JOE twelve years' black-hole, | |
For lovering your darter. |
"He loves Miss LADY JANE | |
(I own she is his betters), | |
But if you'll jine them twain, | |
They'll free him from his fetters. |
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