I'm going to be a pirate with a bright brass pivot-gun, <br />And an island in the Spanish Main beyond the setting sun, <br />And a silver flagon full of red wine to drink when work is done, <br />Like a fine old salt-sea scavenger, like a tarry Buccaneer. <br /> <br />With a sandy creek to careen in, and a pig-tailed Spanish mate, <br />And under my main-hatches a sparkling merry freight <br />Of doubloons and double moidores and pieces of eight, <br />Like a fine old salt-sea scavenger, like a tarry Buccaneer. <br /> <br />With a taste for Spanish wine-shops and for spending my doubloons, <br />And a crew of swart mulattoes and black-eyed octoroons, <br />And a thoughtful way with mutineers of making them maroons, <br />Like a fine old salt-sea scavenger, like a tarry Buccaneer. <br /> <br />With a sash of crimson velvet and a diamond-hiked sword, <br />And a silver whistle about my neck secured to a golden cord, <br />And a habit of taking captives and walking them along a board, <br />Like a fine old salt-sea scavenger, like a tarry Buccaneer. <br /> <br />With a spy-glass tucked beneath my arm and a cocked hat cocked askew, <br />And a long low rakish schooner a-cutting of the waves in two, <br />And a flag of skull and cross-bones the wickedest that ever flew, <br />Like a fine old salt-sea scavenger, like a tarry Buccaneer.<br /><br />John Masefield<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-tarry-buccaneer/
