The Bellman himself they all praised to the skies— Such a carriage, such ease and such grace! Such solemnity, too! One could see he was wise, The moment one looked in his face!
He had bought a large map representing the sea, Without the least vestige of land: And the crew were much pleased when they found it to be A map they could all understand. 'What’s the good of Mercator’s North Poles and Equators, Tropics, Zones, and Meridian Lines?
' So the Bellman would cry: and the crew would reply 'They are merely conventional signs! 'Other maps are such shapes, with their islands and capes!
But we’ve got our brave Captain to thank:' (So the crew would protest) 'that he’s bought us the best— A perfect and absolute blank!
' This was charming, no doubt; but they shortly found out That the Captain they trusted so well Had only one notion for crossing the ocean, And that was to tingle his bell. He was thoughtful and grave—but the orders he gave Were enough to bewilder a crew.
When he cried 'Steer to starboard, but keep her head larboard! ' What on earth was the helmsman to do? Then the bowsprit got mixed with the rudder sometimes: A thing, as the Bellman remarked, That frequently happens in tropical climes, When a vessel is, so to speak, 'snarked.
' But the principal failing occurred in the sailing, And the Bellman, perplexed and distressed, Said he had hoped, at least, when the wind blew due East, That the ship would not travel due West!
But the danger was past—they had landed at last, With their boxes, portmanteaus, and bags: Yet at first sight the crew were not pleased with the view, Which consisted of chasms and crags. The Bellman perceived that their spirits were low, And