Rudyard Kipling

The Liner she's a lady, an' she never looks nor 'eeds--
The Man-o'-War's 'er 'usband an' 'e gives 'er read more

The Liner she's a lady, an' she never looks nor 'eeds--
The Man-o'-War's 'er 'usband an' 'e gives 'er all she needs;
But, oh, the little cargo-boats, that sail the wet seas roun',
They're just the same as you an' me, a'-plyin' up an' down.

When 'Omer smote 'is bloomin' lyre,
He'd 'eard men sing by land an' sea;
An' what he read more

When 'Omer smote 'is bloomin' lyre,
He'd 'eard men sing by land an' sea;
An' what he thought 'e might require,
'E went an' took--the same as me.

Her plates are scarred by the sun, dear lass,
And her ropes are taut with the dew,
read more

Her plates are scarred by the sun, dear lass,
And her ropes are taut with the dew,
For we're booming down on the old trail, our own trail, the out
trail,
We're sagging south on the Long Trail, the trail that is always
new.

If I were hanged on the highest hill,
Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine!
I know read more

If I were hanged on the highest hill,
Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine!
I know whose love would follow me still,
Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine!

I always prefer to believe the best of everybody--it saves so much trouble.

I always prefer to believe the best of everybody--it saves so much trouble.