Mermaid Song Iv

GREENLAND, Greenland, is a bonny, bonny place,
Whare there-s neither grief nor flowr,
Whare there-s neither grief nor tier to be
seen,
But hills and frost and snow.
Up starts the kemp o the ship,
Wi a psalm-book in his hand:
-Swoom away, swoom away, my merry old boys,
For you-ll never see dry land.-
Up starts the gaucy cook,
And a weil gaucy cook was he;
-I wad na gie aw my pans and my kettles
For aw the lords in the sea.-
Up starts the kemp o the ship,
Wi a bottle and a glass intil his hand;
-Swoom away, swoom away, my merry old sailors,
For you-ll never see dry land.-
O the raging seas they row, row, row,
The stormy winds do blow,
As sune as he had gane up to the tap,
As . . . low.