Far down on a narrow ledge, They saw him cling to the crumbling edge. ‘Wait for the bucket! Hi, man! Stay! That rope ain’t safe! It’s worn away! He’s taking his chance, Slack out the line! Sweet Lord be with him!’ cried Pennarby mine. ‘He’s got him! He has him! Pull with a will! Thank God! He’s over and breathing still. And he—Lord’s sakes now! What’s that? Well! Blowed if it ain’t our London swell. Your heart is right If your coat _is_ fine: Give us your hand!’ cried Pennarby mine. A ROVER CHANTY A trader sailed from Stepney town— Wake her up! Shake her up! Try her with the mainsail! A trader sailed from Stepney town With a keg full of gold and a velvet gown: Ho, the bully rover Jack, Waiting with his yard aback Out upon the Lowland sea! The trader he had a daughter fair— Wake her up! Shake her up! Try her with the foresail The trader he had a daughter fair, She had gold in her ears, and gold in her hair: All for bully rover Jack, Waiting with his yard aback, Out upon the Lowland sea! ‘Alas the day, oh daughter mine!’— Shake her up! Wake her up! Try her with the topsail! ‘Alas the day, oh daughter mine! Yon red, red flag is a fearsome sign!’ Ho, the bully rover Jack, Reaching on the weather tack, Out upon the Lowland sea! ‘A fearsome flag!’ the maiden cried— Wake her up! Shake her up! Try her with the jibsail! ‘A fearsome flag!’ the maiden cried, But comelier men I never have spied!’ Ho, the bully rover Jack, Reaching on the weather tack, Out upon the Lowland sea! There’s a wooden path that the rovers know— Wake her up! Shake her up! Try her with the headsails! There’s a wooden path that the rovers know, Where none come back, though many must go: Ho, the bully rover Jack, Lying with his yard aback, Out upon the Lowland sea! Where is the trader of Stepney town?— Wake her up! Shake her up! Every stick a-bending! Where is the trader of Stepney town? There’s gold on the capstan, and blood on the gown: Ho for bully rover Jack, Waiting with his yard aback, Out upon the Lowland sea! Where is the maiden who knelt at his side?— Wake her up! Shake her up! Every stitch a-drawing! Where is the maiden who knelt at his side? We gowned her in scarlet, and chose her our bride: Ho, the bully rover Jack, Reaching on the weather tack, Right across the Lowland sea! So it’s up and its over to Stornoway Bay, Pack it on! Crack it on! Try her with the stunsails! It’s off on a bowline to Stornoway Bay, Where the liquor is good and the lasses are gay: Waiting for their bully Jack, Watching for him sailing back, Right across the Lowland sea. A BALLAD OF THE RANKS