Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, PAIN IN A PLEASURE BOAT, by THOMAS HOOD


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

PAIN IN A PLEASURE BOAT, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: Shove off there! Ship the rudder, bill - cast off! She's under way!
Last Line: Well, heaven be praised! But I'll not go a-sailing any more!
Subject(s): Sailing & Sailors; Seamen; Sails


Boatman—Shove off there!—ship the rudder, Bill—cast off!
she's under way!
Mrs. F.—She's under what?—I hope she's not! good gracious, what a

spray!
Boatman—Run out the jib, and rig the boom! keep clear of those two
brigs!
Mrs. F.—I hope they don't intend some joke by running of their rigs!
Boatman—Bill, shift them bags of ballast aft—she's rather out of
trim!
Mrs. F.—Great bags of stone! they're pretty things to help a boat to
swim!
Boatman—The wind is fresh—if she don't scud, it's not the breeze's

fault!
Mrs. F.—Wind fresh, indeed! I never felt the air so full of salt!
Boatman—That schooner, Bill, harn't left the roads, with oranges, and
nuts!
Mrs. F.—If seas have roads, they're very rough—I never felt such
ruts!
Boatman—It's neap, ye see, she's heavy lade, and couldn't pass the bar.

Mrs. F.—The bar! what, roads with turnpikes too? I wonder where they
are!
Boatman—Ho! Brig ahoy! hard up! hard up! that lubber cannot steer!
Mrs. F.—Yes, yes—hard up upon a rock! I know some danger's near!
Lord, there's a wave! it's coming in! and roaring like a bull!
Boatman—Nothing, Ma'am, but a little slop! go large, Bill! keep her
full!
Mrs. F.—What, keep her full! what daring work! when full, she must go
down!
Boatman—Why, Bill, it lulls! ease off a bit—it's coming off the
town!
Steady your helm! we'll clear the Pint! lay right for yonder pink!
Mrs. F.—Be steady—well, I hope they can! but they've got a pint of

drink!
Boatman—Bill, give that sheet another haul—she'll fetch it up this

reach.
Mrs. F.—I'm getting rather pale, I know, and they see it by that
speech!
I wonder what it is, now, but—I never felt so queer!
Boatman—Bill, mind your luff—why, Bill, I say, she's
yawing—keep her near!
Mrs. F.—Keep near! we're going further off; the land's behind our
backs.
Boatman—Be easy, Ma'am, it's all correct, that's only 'cause we tacks;
We shall have to beat about a bit—Bill, keep her out to sea.
Mrs. F.—Beat who about? keep who at sea?—how black they look at
me!
Boatman—It's veering round—I knew it would! off with her head!
stand by!
Mrs. F.—Off with her head! whose? where? what with? an axe I seem to
spy!
Boatman—She can't keep her own, you see; we shall have to pull her in!
Mrs. F.—They'll drown me, and take all I have! my life's not worth a
pin!
Boatman—Look out, you know, be ready, Bill—just when she takes the

sand!
Mrs. F.—The sand—O Lord! to stop my mouth! how everything is
planned!
Boatman—The handspike, Bill—quick, bear a hand! now, Ma'am, just
step ashore!
Mrs. F.—What! aint I going to be killed—and weltered in my gore?
Well, Heaven be praised! but I'll not go a-sailing any more!





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