Father's Boat.

A poem by Lizzie Lawson

IT'S Father's boat we're watching,
Away out on the sea,
She's named the Pretty Polly,
One hundred and ninety three,
Father called her the Polly,
After Mother and me.

There isn't a smarter boat
Than Father's on the sea,
The Pretty Polly is our ship,
Father's the skipper is he,
And we are watching for Father,
We're watching, Nancy and me.

Sometimes the wind blows wildly,
But Nancy, and Mother, and me,
We sing a bit of a hymn we know,
The hymn for those at sea,
Although when we think of Father,
We're as near to choke as can be.

To-night the moon will be shining,
A sight it will be to see,
Father's ship all in silver,
A'sail on a silver sea,
And Father himself a coming home
To Mother and Nancy and me.

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