The White Squall

On deck, beneath the awning,
I dozing lay and yawning;
It was the gray of dawning,
Ere yet the sun arose;
And above the funnel's roaring,
And the fitful wind's deploring,
I heard the cabin snoring
With universal nose.

I could hear the passengers snorting --
I envied their disporting --
Vainly I was courting
The pleasure of a doze!