“The rolling sea is gloomy!” The gentlemen cried.
“The tossing waves are bleak!
We should turn back to England,
For we grow feeble, frail, and weak!”
“To me, to me, my soldiers!” Captain Smith replied,
“My faithful servants, do not despair;
Soon we shall be free
From these churning seas!
With her rolling jaws,
Agape her maw,
From her surface we shall not be erased
Nor shall we come to rest in her embrace.”
“All hope is lost, for Davvy Jones we are bound!
What monstrosities shall we arouse?” Master Wingfield said hurriedly.
“We gentlemen beg you to cease
This suicidal journey through the briny deep!”
“We shall continue,” Smith scowled, “Otherwise I shall keelhaul you!
You gentlemen make me sick,
The lot of you wish to quit!
Virginia lies in wait;
Yet, you want to abdicate
The contract we have signed on the dotted line?
For that you shall be bound!”