'What's become o' the ship you went to sea with
A month ago or more?
And what's become o' the pal you used to be with
When you was last ashore?'
'She's made a far port an' a quiet mooring,
And a strange landfall . . .
She's where she won't heed the sea's roaring,
If she hears it there at all.
'There's no bell to strike nor watch to keep there,
An' no wind to blow . . .
It's a spell o' rest he's found an' a deep sleep there,
An' a long watch below . . .
'An' I'll find many another ship to sign in,
For they clear with every tide,
An' I'll find plenty ports with pals o' mine in,
For the world's good an' wide . . .
An' I'll maybe find a ship as good as she was,
But never another friend,
Never another pal as good as he was,
Not till the world's end . . .'
Notes
From RHYMES OF THE RED ENSIGN, edited by Cicely Fox Smith, published by Hodder & Stoughton, London, UK, © 1919, p. 23.
Presumably this is a sailor thinking of a friend who has passed away and gone to Fiddler's Green. Or perhaps he is thinking of the elusive "Port O' Dreams" that the poet writes about in another poem.
Jim Saville
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