Why did I dream last night, I wonder, about the ship Ledore
I made a passage in from China — was it 'eighty-three or four &mda
"Only a pound," said the auctioneer,
"Only a pound; and I'm standing here
Pilot boat, lighthouse, Stiff green sea —
As there I left the road in May, And took my way along a ground,
El enemigo brutal Nos pone fuego a la casa:
I've had a whirl at games of chance
From Bombay 'round to Cork,
Will you ever forget the mid-watches at sea?
How you tumbled out sleepy and dazed,
If you've ever stood a midwatch in the cavern of the night,
With the sea wolves racing past you in a pack;
Sé de un pintor atrevido Que sale a pintar contento
There's an ache in my heart, and I can't tell why,
Something to do with the sea and sky,
We lay upon a flowery hill
Close by the railway lines,
I wandered up and down the quay to-day,
And yesterday, and many days before,
I've been dreamin',
Of a randy, dandy clipper with her tops'ls set,
Full thirty foot she towered from waterline to rail.
It cost a watch to steer her, and a week to shorten sail;
Those lumbering horses in the steady plough,
On the bare field - I wonder, why, just now,
I don't want to go back to Mejillones, On the dusty Chile shore;
It's oh to bear a weary heart
Among the shine and show!
'Tis merry ov a zummer's day, When vo'k be out a-haulèn hay,
Softly along the road of evening,
In a twilight dim with rose,
I crossed the gangway in the winter's raining,
Late in the night, when it was dreary dark;
"Möchte wieder in die Gegend,
Wo ich einst so selig war,
How dear to my heart are the scenes of my cruises,
When fond recollection presents them to view.
What do I see and hear of an April morning?
Many a ridge and furrow, headland and bay,
Cuentan que antaño,—y por si no lo cuentan, Invéntolo,—un labriego que quería
On the sea at Ômi,
Plovers fly the waves at dusk
I've a pal called Billy Peg-leg, with one leg a wood leg,
And Billy' he's a ship's cook and lives upon the sea;
When the day's trick is over and the running lights are lit,
And the rigging fore and aft is trim and tight;
I'm back on my old job again; the boss has raised my pay;
I've donned "civilians," and I've put my uniform away;
Ever stood th' twelve t' four
Anchor watch, alone at night,
Along about six in th' mornin',
When th' drippin' sun turns out o' bed,
|
|