HE very best ship that ever I knew—Ah-way O, to me O—Was a big black trawler with a deep-sea crew—Sing, my bullies, let the bullgine run.
There was one old devil with a broken nose—Ah-way O, to me O—He was four score years, as I suppose—But sing, my bullies, let the bullgine run.
We was wrecked last March, in a Polar storm—Ah-way O, to me O—And we asked the old cripple if his feet was warm—Sing, my bullies, let the bullgine run.
And the old, old devil (he was ninety at the most)—Ah-way O, to me O—Roars, " Ay, warm as a lickle piece of toast "—So sing, my bullies, let the bullgine run." For I soaked my sea-boots and my dungarees—Ah-way O, to me O—In the good salt water that the Lord don't freeze "—Oh sing, my bullies, let the bullgine run.
This poem was taken from Alfred Noyes' book The Elfin Artist and Other Poems, published in 1920 by William Blackwood and Sons.
It is in a section entitled Songs of the Trawlers.
The "bullgine" is sailor slang for the small steam engine that helped bring in the trawl.
JS & CN
