The maiden sought around, It was not to be found, She search'd each nook and dell, The haunts she loved so well, All anxious with desire; The wind blew ope his vest, When, lo! the toy in quest, She found within the breast Of Cupid, the false crier, Ring-a-ding, a-ding-a-ding, Cupid the false crier. "Many thanks, Mistress Corbett, for a good song, sung in good tune, with a sweet voice," said Jemmy. "I owe you one for that, and am ready to pay you on demand. You've a pipe like a missel thrush." "Well, I do believe that I shall begin to sing again," replied Nancy. "I'm sure if Corbett was only once settled on shore in a nice little cottage, with a garden, and a blackbird in a wicker cage, I should try who could sing most, the bird or me." "He will be by-and-by, when his work is done." "Yes, when it is; but open boats, stormy seas, and the halter, are heavy odds, Mr Salisbury." "Don't mention the halter, Mistress Nancy, you'll make me melancholy," replied Jemmy, "and I sha'n't be able to sing any more. Well, if they want to hang me, they need not rig the yard-arm, three handspikes as sheers, and I shouldn't find soundings, heh! Moggy?" Nancy laughed at the ludicrous idea: but Moggy exclaimed with vehemence, "Hang my Jemmy! my darling duck! I should like to see them." "At all events, we'll have another song from him, Moggy, before they spoil his windpipe, which, I must say, would be a great pity; but, Moggy, there have been better men hung than your husband." "Better men than my Jemmy, Mrs Corbett! There never was one like him afore or since," replied Moggy with indignation. "I only meant of longer pedigree, Moggy," replied Nancy, soothingly. "I don't know what that is," replied Moggy, still angry. "Longer legs, to be sure," replied Jemmy. "Never mind that, Moggy. Here goes, song in two parts. It's a pity, Mistress Nancy, that you couldn't take one." "When will you give up this life of wild roving? When shall we be quiet and happy on shore! When will you to church lead your Susan, so loving, And sail on the treacherous billows no more?" "My ship is my wife, Sue, no other I covet, Till I draw the firm splice that's betwixt her and me; I'll roam on the Ocean, for much do I love it, To wed with another were rank bigamy." "O William, what nonsense you talk, you are raving; Pray how can a man and a ship become one? You say so because you no longer are craving, As once you were truly--and I am undone." "You wrong me, my dearest, as sure as I stand here, As sure as I'll sail again on the wide sea; Some day I will settle, and marry with you, dear, But now 'twould be nothing but rank bigamy." "Then tell me the time, dear William, whenever Your Sue may expect this divorce to be made; When you'll surely be mine, when no object shall sever, But lock'd in your arms I'm no longer afraid."