Paddling under Palmettos — page 182: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Paddling Under Palmettos. 175 Thro’ many a blow of rain and snow And bitter squall of hail, When masts were bent and canvas rent, We braved the Northern gale. Those snowy piles of ice-girt isles That deck the Arctic sea ) Are many and many a league astern, As we steer for old Mohea. CHORUS. Thro’ vapors’ dawn with the rising sun Old “Niger” rolls away, Or sleeps in the mist, by moonbeams kissed, On the waves of St. Lawrence Bay: For many a day we have toiled away On that wild Kamtchatka Sea, And as we toiled we chatted and sung Of the girls of old Mohea. CHORUS. Up thro’ the land where the iceberg looms, Up thro’ the wastes of snow, With rigging and sail all coated with ice When the bitter blasts do blow; With a hurricane on our weather-bow And breakers on our lee, It seemed the blast, as it whistled past, Brought tidings from old Mohea. CHORUS. Oh! I love that land, with its fragrant breeze, Its odors fresh and rare, Its verdant glades and sunny maids That are ever kind and fair. There even now bright eyes look forth Each day in hopes to see Our snow-white sail before the gale Rolling down to old Mohea. CHORUS, Gomicbooks (E(@)