Classic and Contemporary Poetry
BILL SWEENY OF THE BLACK GANG, by JAMES BARNES First Line: Ther's a feller in the black gang Last Line: If they don't say! I'd like to know! Subject(s): Fights; Fire; Firefighters | ||||||||
The "Black Gang" is the fire-room force firemen, oilers, water- tenders, coal-passers, and so on. THER'S a feller in the Black Gang Aboard the Ampertrite; Bill Sweeny is the feller's name, You can bet that Bill's all right. He's seen a heap o' the world, has Bill, He's fired all there is to fire, From a lime-juicer tramp To a brand-new Cramp With a stack like Trinity spire. Bill Sweeny is a feller With stars agin his name; But Bill he gets his liberty When any gets the same. He stands right in with them all, does Bill, And they lets him go ashore, Though he'd smuggle a swig To a lad in the brig And he's sure to smuggle in more. Bill Sweeny is a feller You won't back on his looks, He's pitted up with small-pox And he ain't much read in books; But he's got a laugh that you like, has Bill, (I likes to hear him laught,) No matter where, You can swear Bill's there, Consumin' his own forced draught. Bill Sweeny is the feller When the starboard engine's broke, He stays below in the scalding steam Where a man was like to choke; And he dodges the flying cranks, does Bill, And he climbs past that hammerin' rod; The rest all run, But that son-of-a-gun He shuts her off, b' God! Bill Sweeny is the bully lad I likes to see around. I'd rise to take a drink with Bill Though six foot under ground. But Bill, he's soft as a goil, is Bill, I mind the night he cried, When he come away From that hot sick bay, And told us old Tom had died. Bill Sweeny is a fighter Of the rough and tumble kind, He laughts when he fights, but he shows his teeth, I've seen him at it, mind; He was one of the Baltimore's crew, was Bill, When we had the row down there. Valparaiso? Say! Don't ferget that day, Weren't Bill in thet fight for fair? Say! Did y' hear Bill Sweeny? He says one night, says he: "I've got a chanst for a good land job, But I guess I'll stick to the sea. I knows meself and me work," says Bill, "And I'm going to sign once more I'm safe all right On the Ampertrite, And I'm all at sea, ashore." Bill Sweeny of the Black Gang He's a first-class fireman now, He entered water-tender But if we had a row, We lads at the guns has a chanst but Bill And the Jacks o' the Dust below, A-feedin' the flame, Fights just the same If they don't say! I'd like to know! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CONVERSATION WITH A FIREMAN FROM BROOKLYN by TESS GALLAGHER ON THE PASSING OF THE LAST FIRE HORSE FROM MANHATTAN ISLAND by KENNETH SLADE ALLING THE PHOENIX REBORN FROM ITS ASHES by LOUIS ARAGON THE AMERICAN FIREMAN by CHRISTOPHER BANNISTER PARADISE LOST by BERTON BRALEY AT THE FIRE-FIGHTERS' POST by CAMILLA DOYLE |
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