Passion-Flowers (Howe)/Handsome Harry

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HANDSOME HARRY.
Way must we look so oft abaft?What is the charm we feelWhen handsome Harry guides the craft,His hand upon the wheel?
His hand upon the wheel, his eyeThe swelling sail doth measure;Were I the vessel he commands,I should obey with pleasure.
Whether he tumbles to the top,Or in the rigging stands,I must admire his agile feet,His ready, willing hands.
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He would seem taller, were he notIn such proportion made,He wears as fair and free a browAs golden curls can shade.
Fresh youth, and joyance, and kind heartGleam in his azure eye,And though I scarcely know his voice,I think he cannot lie.
More graceful is his shirt of blue,Than your best Paris coat,It drapes his manly shoulders well,Displays his rounded throat.
He seems a glowing MercuryJust lighted from the sun,But Harry stands on two trim feet,And Mercury on one.
From boyhood's days, the ocean waveHas cradled him to sleep,He is a true salt water babe,An orphan of the deep.
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And he can win a maiden's ear,They say, with ready art;But who would trust to sailors vows?True pirates of the heart.
Yet, when I see him at the helmWith heaven about his eyes,I think he's fit to guide our shipTo naught but Paradise.
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