The damned ship lurched and slithered. Quiet and quick My cold gorge rose; the long sea rolled;
I knewI must think hard of something, or be sick;
And could think hard of only one thing —
OU!
You, you alone could hold my fancy ever!
And with you memories come, sharp pain, and dole.
Now there's a choice — heartache or tortured liver!
A sea-sick body, or a you-sick soul!
Do I forget you? Retchings twist and tie me,
Old meat, good meals, brown gobbets, up I throw.
Do I remember? Acrid return and slimy,
The sobs and slobber of a last years woe.
And still the sick ship rolls. 'Tis hard,
I tell ye,
To choose 'twixt love and nausea, heart and belly.