Helm a-weather, now lay her close,

Yard arm and yard arm she lies;

Again, cried I,

Mr.

Venus, give her t’other dose,

Man shrouds and grapple, sir, or she flies!

Helm a-weather, now lay her close, Yard arm and yard arm she lies; Again, cried I, Mr. Venus, give her t’other dose, Man shrouds and grapple, sir, or she flies!