Part 2 / Book 1 — OUR MARINE.[73] (A Nautical tale.)

A dream of a fleet we lately dreamt, And enjoy’d a sail delicious Far over the wide and boundless sea, The wind was quite propitious. We gave our frigates the proudest names That we in our calendar reckon’d; One Hoffmann of Fallersleben we call’d, And Prutz[74] we christen’d the second. There floated the cutter Freiligrath, Whereon was seen the figure Of the Moorish king, which gazed below Like a moon (but as black as a nigger). There floated Gustavus Schwab as well, A Pfizer, a Kölle, a Mayer; On each of them stood a Swabian face, Each holding a wooden lyre. There floated Birch-Pfeiffer, a brig which bore On its mast the escutcheon olden Of the famous German Admiralty, On tatters black-red-golden. We boldly clamber’d on bowsprit and yard, And bore ourselves like sailors; Our jackets were short, our hats betarr’d, And our trousers as big as a tailor’s. Full many, who formerly sipp’d but tea As husbands kind and forbearing, Now drank their rum, their pigtail chew’d, And, seaman-like, took to swearing. So bright was our vision, we well nigh won A naval victory splendid; But when return’d the morning sun, Both fleet and vision had ended. We still were lying at home in bed, Our limbs all over it sprawling; We rubbed the sleep from out of our eyes, The following wise speech bawling: “The world is round; why seek to be tost “On the idle billows, faint-hearted? “When we sail round the world, at last we return “To the point from which we started.”