Polly of Penarth.
When sailing in and out of port,
And rounding Penarth Head,
O, don't I make my “ Siren "snort—
Enough to wake the dead.
For there is not a girl so smart
Twixt Penarth Head and Garth
As she who stole away my heart
Sweet Polly of Penarth.
My ship, a crazy collier tramp,
Sails like a lump of lead ;
She's leaky—always wet or damp—
And I must earn my bread.
But there's no girl so taut and straight
Twixt Penarth Head and Garth,
As she who makes my life so bright
Sweet Polly of Penarth !
And when I've made a few more trips
Across the stormy sea,
I'll sail no more away in ships
But live on shore with thee.
For go, or come, abroad, or home,
Twixt anywhere and Garth;
There's not a girl 'neath Heaven's Dome
Like Polly of Penarth.