The third Summer's roses have started in to blow, When the fine stern carving is begun. Flutings, and twinings, and long slow swirls, Bits of deal shaved away to thin spiral curls. Tap! Tap! A cornucopia is nailed into place. Rap-a-tap! They are putting up a railing filigreed like Irish lace. The Three Town's people never saw such grace. And the paint on it! The richest gold leaf! Why, the glitter when the sun is shining passes belief. And that row of glass windows tipped toward the sky Are rubies and carbuncles when the day is dry. Oh, my! Oh, my! They have coppered up the bottom, And the copper nails Stand about and sparkle in big wooden pails. Bang! Clash! Bang! "And he swigg'd, and Nick swigg'd, And Ben swigg'd, and Dick swigg'd, And I swigg'd, and all of us swigg'd it, And swore there was nothing like grog." It seems they sing, Even though coppering is not an easy thing. What a splendid specimen of humanity is a true British workman, Say the people of the Three Towns, As they walk about the dockyard To the sound of the evening church-bells. And so artistic, too, each one tells his neighbour. What immense taste and labour! Miss Jessie Prime, in a pink silk bonnet, Titters with delight as her eyes fall upon it, When she steps lightly down from Lawyer Green's whisky; Such amazing beauty makes one feel frisky, She explains. Mr. Nichols says he is delighted (He is the firm); His work is all requited If Miss Jessie can approve. Miss Jessie answers that the ship is "a love". The sides are yellow as marigold, The port-lids are red when the ports are up: Blood-red squares like an even chequer Of yellow asters and portulaca. There is a wide "black strake" at the waterline And above is a blue like the sky when the weather is fine. The inner bulwarks are painted red. "Why?" asks Miss Jessie. "'Tis a horrid note." Mr. Nichols clears his throat, And tells her the launching day is set. He says, "Be careful, the paint is wet." But Miss Jessie has touched it, her sprigged muslin gown Has a blood-red streak from the shoulder down. "It looks like blood," says Miss Jessie with a frown.