In Trinidad, to Freddie's Lair
           Each day at five I walked.
      And once I met a seagull there,
           And so we drank and talked.

      He raised his glass and said to me,
           "My friend, it's sure as heck
      That I'm one bird you'll never see
           Hung on a sailor's neck.

      "It's true I've seen my prime slip by,
           And drink more than I should.
      My wings they shake -- I can't much fly,
           Though once, ah once, I could.

      "But I'll not be by Fortune kept
           Nor play the Reaper's pawn. . . ."
      His voice then broke; he drank and wept,
           "Oh God, my lady's gone."

      A mug of Cuban rum he had
           Before he said through tears,
      "We summered once in Leningrad
           And wintered in Algiers.

      "Her love was heaven to possess,
           Her eyes like hand-rubbed teak,
      Her bosom velvet to caress,
           And topaz was her beak."

      He drank then leapt, his drinking done,
           To the western window's ledge.
      "I see her in that setting sun
           On the burning ocean's edge."

      He flapped his wings and screamed such things
           As cannot bear repeating;
      The ocean roared, my gull he soared
           Over the breakers beating.

      He yelled, "I fly!" I heard him cry,
           "Here, princess, comes your prince!"
      Then lost him in the westward sky,
           And haven't seen him since.