by Edward Abbott Parry
You can take a tub with a rub and a scrub in a two-foot tank of tin,
You can stand and look at the whirling brook and think about jumping in,
You can chatter and shake in the cold, black lake, but the kind of bath for me,
Is to take a dip from the side of a ship, in the trough of the rolling sea.
You may lie and dream in the bed of a stream when an August day is dawning,
Or believe ’tis nice to break the ice on your tub of a winter morning,
You may sit and shiver beside the river, but the kind of a bath for me,
Is to take a dip from the side of a ship, in the trough of a rolling sea.