But oh, I am come here to say
I'm never coming back!

"From Alexandria we set sail,
With corn, and oil, and figs,
But steering 'too much Sow,' we struck
Upon the Sow and Pigs!

"The ship we pumped till we could see
Old England from the tops;
When down she went with all our hands,
Right in the Channel's Chops.

"Just give a look in Norey's Chart,
The very place it tells:
I think it says twelve fathom deep,
Clay bottom, mixed with shells.

"Well, there we are till 'hands aloft,'
We have at last a call,
The pug I had for brother Jim,
Kate's parrot, too, and all."

"But oh, my spirit cannot rest
In Davy Jones's sod,
Till I've appeared to you and said,
'Don't sup on that there Cod!

"You live on land, and little think
What passes in the sea;