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SONGS OF THE TRAWLERS AND SEA POEMS
THE PEOPLE'S FLEET
Out of her darkened fis.h.i.+ng-ports they go, A fleet of little s.h.i.+ps, whose every name-- _Daffodil_, _Sea-lark_, _Rose_ and _Surf_ and _Snow_, Burns in this blackness like an altar-flame;
Out of her past they sail, three thousand strong, The people's fleet that never knew its worth, And every name is a broken phrase of song To some remembered loveliness on earth.
There's _Barbara Cowie_, _Comely Bank_ and _May_, Christened, at home, in worlds of dawn and dew: There's _Ruth_ and _Kindly Light_ and _Robin Gray_ With _Mizpah_. (May that simple prayer come true!)
Out of old England's inmost heart they sail, A fleet of memories that can never fail.
KILMENY
Dark, dark lay the drifters against the red West, As they shot their long meshes of steel overside; And the oily green waters were rocking to rest When Kilmeny went out, at the turn of the tide; And n.o.body knew where that la.s.sie would roam, For the magic that called her was tapping unseen.
It was well-nigh a week ere Kilmeny came home, And n.o.body knew where Kilmeny had been.
She'd a gun at her bow that was Newcastle's best, And a gun at her stern that was fresh from the Clyde, And a secret her skipper had never confessed, Not even at dawn, to his newly-wed bride; And a wireless that whispered above, like a gnome, The laughter of London, the boasts of Berlin....
O, it may have been mermaids that lured her from home; But n.o.body knew where Kilmeny had been.
It was dark when Kilmeny came home from her quest With her bridge dabbled red where her skipper had died; But she moved like a bride with a rose at her breast, And _Well done Kilmeny!_ the Admiral cried.
Now, at sixty-four fathom a conger may come And nose at the bones of a drowned submarine; But--late in the evening Kilmeny came home, And n.o.body knew where Kilmeny had been.
There's a wandering shadow that stares at the foam, Though they sing all the night to old England, their queen.
Late, late in the evening, Kilmeny came home; And n.o.body knew where Kilmeny had been.
CAP'N STORM-ALONG
They are buffeting out in the bitter grey weather, _Blow the man down, bullies, blow the man down!_ _Sea-lark_ singing to _Golden Feather_, And burly blue waters all swelling aroun'.
There's _Thunderstone_ b.u.t.ting ahead as they wallow, With death in the mesh of their deep-sea trawl; There's _Night-Hawk_ swooping by wild _Sea-swallow_; And old Cap'n Storm-along leading 'em all.
_Bas.h.i.+ng the seas to a welter of white, Look at the fleet that he leads to the fight.
O, they're dancing like witches to open the ball; And old Cap'n Storm-along's lord of 'em all._
Now, where have you seen such a bully old sailor?
His eyes are as blue as the scarf at his throat; And he rolls on the bridge of his broad-beamed whaler, In yellow sou'wester and oil-skin coat.
In trawler and drifter, in dinghy and dory, Wherever he signals, they leap to his call; They batter the seas to a lather of glory, With old Cap'n Storm-along leading 'em all.
_You'll find he's from Devon, the sailor I mean, Look at his whaler now, s.h.i.+pping it green.
O, Fritz and his "U" boat must crab it and crawl When old Cap'n Storm-along sails to the ball._
Ay, there is the skipper that knows how to scare 'em.
_Blow the man down, bullies, blow the man down!_ Look at the sea-wives he keeps in his harem, Wicked young merry-maids, buxom and brown: There's _Rosalind_, the sea-witch, and _Gipsy_ so lissom, All dancing like ducks in the teeth of the squall, With a bright eye for Huns, and a Hotchkiss to kiss 'em; For old Cap'n Storm-along's lord of 'em all.
_Look at him, battering darkness to light!
Look at the fleet that he leads to the fight!
O, hearts that are mighty, in s.h.i.+ps that are small, Your old Cap'n Storm-along's lord of us all._
THE BIG BLACK TRAWLER
The very best s.h.i.+p that ever I knew, --_Ah-way O, to me O_-- Was a big black trawler with a deep-sea crew-- _Sing, my bullies, let the bullgine run._
There was one old devil with a broken nose --_Ah-way O, to me O_-- He was four score years, as I suppose-- _But, sing, my bullies, let the bullgine run._
We was wrecked last March, in a Polar storm --_Ah-way O, to me O_-- And we asked the old cripple if his feet was warm-- _Sing, my bullies, let the bullgine run._
And the old, old devil (he was ninety at the most) --_Ah-way O, to me O_-- Roars, "Ay, warm as a lickle piece of toast"-- _So sing, my bullies, let the bullgine run._
"For I soaked my sea-boots and my dungarees --_Ah-way O, to me O_-- In the good salt water that the Lord don't freeze"-- _Oh, sing, my bullies, let the bullgine run._
NAMESAKES
But where's the brown drifter that went out alone?
--_Roll and go, and fare you well_-- Was her name Peggy Nutten? That name is my own.
_Fare you well, my sailor._ They sang in the dark, "Let her go! Let her go!"
And she sailed to the West, where the broad waters flow; And the others come back, but ... the bitter winds blow.
_Ah, fare you well, my sailor._
The women, at evening, they wave and they cheer.
--_Roll and go, and fare you well_-- They're waiting to welcome their lads at the pier.
_Fare you well, my sailor._ They're all coming home in the twilight below; But there's one little boat.... Let her go! Let her go!
She carried my heart, and a heart for the foe.
_Ah, fare you well, my sailor._