III.

Hateful is the pea-green sky, Hanging o’er the pea-green sea―― Life ends in smoke, oh! why Should life all labor be? Let us alone. We do not want to go! Since life’s a vapor, smoke it all away! Let us alone. We have no strength to row, We won’t attempt it, anyhow, to-day. Let us alone. What fun can sailors find In climbing up a wave, and down behind? All folks have rest excepting only tars, Their work is always of the endless kind;―― Give us a smoke or sleep, sound sleep or good cigars!