Part 4 (1/2)

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.