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The "Ballad of the " Royal Jinn " 
 
THE BALLAD OF THE 
 "ROYAL ANN." 
 By Crosbig Garstitt. 
 
 BYWA YS ROUND HELICON 
 By I. A. Williams. 
 
 DOWN HERE THE HAW- 
 THORN. 
 
 By Thomas Moult. 
 
 REYNARD THE FOX. 
 By John Masefield. 
 
 RIGHT ROYAL. 
 
 By John Masefield. 
 
 LONDON: 
 WILLIAM HEINEMANN 
 
LONDON: WILLIAM HEINEMANN 
 1922 
 
To 
 
 Fryn and Stella Tennyson Jesse 
 
 i20x:.-l 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2007 with funding from 
 
 IVIicrosoft Corporation 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/balladofroyalannOOgarsrich 
 
ACKNOWLEDGMENT 
 
 Eighteen of these verses have appeared in Punch, 
 others in The Spectator and the Windsor Magazine. 
 I am indebted to the Proprietors and Editors, and 
 also to Mr. Fisher Unwin, for kindly giving me 
 permission to reprint. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 THE BALLAD OF THE ** ROYAL ANN " ... I 
 
 THE MOOR STREAM l8 
 
 THE FAIR 20 
 
 A CORNISH LULLABY 23 
 
 A CORNISH COTTAGE 2$ 
 
 THE REEFS 27 
 
 maiden's BOWER ROCKS 32 
 
 OLD WOMAN^S HOUSE ROCK 35 
 
 HARD LEWIS ROCK 38 
 
 GEORGE PETERS ROCK 4I 
 
 SPANISH LEDGES 44 
 
 THE SEA-LIGHTS 47 
 
 A BALLAD OF ROADS ... ... 49 
 
 PRAIRIE SONG 52 
 
 THE HOMESTEADER 54 
 
 THE COW-PONY 56 
 
 THE TRANSPORT RIDER 60 
 
 THE OWLD LAD 61 
 
 TRIOLET SERENADE 62 
 
 TRIOLET 63 
 
 SUNWARD ... ... ... 64 
 
 [V] 
 
DOWN CHANNEL 
 
 
 
 66 
 
 MAGIC 
 
 
 
 • 67 
 
 CALLAO 
 
 
 
 68 
 
 AT ANCHOR 
 
 
 
 70 
 
 ALCHEMY 
 
 
 
 71 
 
 PORTS 
 
 
 
 74 
 
 NEW DRAFT 
 
 
 
 . 76 
 
 TO A REGIMENT OF HORSE . 
 
 
 
 • 78 
 
 CHEMIN DES DAMES ... 
 
 
 
 80 
 
 OLD SOLDIERS 
 
 
 
 82 
 
 THE HAIRIES 
 
 
 
 8s 
 
 A BALLAD OF BATTLBS 
 
 
 
 . 89 
 
The "Ballad of the 
 
 I. 
 John Bassett stood in Bideford, 
 A drummer stood beside, 
 '' Oh, who will man my ship of marque 
 That swims the Severn tide ? 
 And see strange brutes and birds and fruits 
 And win an Indian bride?" 
 
The ballad of the " 7^^/ oinn " 
 
 2. 
 
 ** Oh, who will man the * Royal Ann ' 
 
 Of full four hundred tons, 
 
 Furnished with pikes and musketoons, 
 
 And eight and forty guns ? 
 
 Oh high she is and dry she is. 
 
 And hke a hind she runs." 
 
 3. 
 John Bassett beat the Bristol quays 
 With hautboys and with drums, 
 The seamen left their tavern loves 
 And followed through the slums. 
 *^ Who comes to sack a tall carrack," 
 John Bassett cried, '* Who comes ?" 
 
 4. 
 ** Who comes to sack the treasure ships 
 That bear the wealth of Spain ? 
 Who comes to take the golden ports 
 That front the Spanish Main, 
 And spoil their gear, and have good cheer 
 When he rolls home again ? " 
 
 [2] 
 
The Hallad of the " %oyal oinn " 
 
 The seamen came from Bideford, 
 
 They came from Bristol quays, 
 
 They set their rummers down, and shook 
 
 The wenches from their knees. 
 
 ** Oh, we will hew a path with you 
 
 Into the golden seas/' 
 
 From King's Road hard by Avonmouth 
 Set forth the '* Royal Ann," 
 Madeira's isle went down astern, 
 And the steady Trades began 
 To swell her pale half-moons of sail, 
 And like a hind she ran. 
 
 And proud she stepped and swift she swept, 
 Her bow wave creamed and purred. 
 She passed the peak of Teneriffe, 
 The Islands of Cape Verde. 
 Into the blue south-west she flew 
 Winged like a snow-white bird. 
 
 [3] 
 
The ballad of the " "^oyal ^nn " 
 
 8. 
 They had not come but seven days 
 Into the Carrib Sea 
 
 When the watch made hail, ^* I spy a sail 
 Close-hauled upon our lee. 
 Her quarters glow with gilt and oh 
 A galleon is she ! " 
 
 9. 
 ** Brail up the mizzen 1 " Bassett cried, 
 ** Veer ship and give her chase. 
 Shake the top gallants out, my hearts, 
 To come with her apace. 
 Ho ! Bo'sun, set the splinter net 
 And each man in his place." 
 
 10. 
 '* Ho Gunner, see the linstocks served. 
 The round-top fowlers manned. 
 Pile high each rack with ball, and stack 
 The rammers at your hand. 
 By Christ the Lord I'll lay aboard 
 Or come no more to land ! " 
 
 [4] 
 
The 'Ballad of the " %oyal ^nn " 
 
 II. 
 
 They had not chased but glasses three 
 When they heard her trumpets shout. 
 The flag of Spain broke at the main 
 As she luffed and went about. 
 She hung and filled, her whistles shrilled 
 And a broadside thundered out. 
 
 12. 
 
 John Bassett laughed, '' So ho, so ho, 
 
 The gilded beldame stings ! 
 
 Shiver her masts with langrel blasts 
 
 And tear her cloth to strings. 
 
 She will not dance so gay perchance 
 
 When I have nipped her wings." 
 
 / 
 / 
 
 13. 
 
 He brought her foremast by the board, 
 And loudly cheered the crew. 
 He ran athwart her hawse, and raked 
 Her foc^sle through and through. 
 Then hauled away his leaks to stay, 
 And came at her anew. 
 
 [5] 
 
The "Ballad of the '' "Royal ^nn " 
 14. 
 
 The gunners sponged their pieces out 
 And hammered at their marks. 
 The round shot bit, the splinters ht 
 And whirled in flaming arcs. 
 And as men died, straight overside 
 They hove them to the sharks. 
 
 IS. 
 John Bassett to the pilot turned, 
 " Lay me aboard," said he, 
 ** Grapple her rail, and lash her fast. 
 Ann Royals follow me. 
 Blow trumpets, blow, and up we go 
 Pride of the West Countree ! " 
 
 16. 
 They poured aboard her at the waist 
 And sore the Spaniards pressed, 
 The captain stood upon the poop. 
 In silver armour dressed. 
 John Bassett's sword bore down his guard 
 And bit into his breast. 
 
 [6] 
 
The "Ballad of the " "Royal ^nn " 
 
 17. 
 
 Great plunder had they from that prize, 
 
 Raw gold in massy bars, 
 
 Sugar, and spice, and indigo. 
 
 And wine, a hundred jars. 
 
 They picked her bare and left her there. 
 
 Red-blazing to the stars. 
 
 18. 
 Into a still lagoon they came 
 At boat-tow through the calms, 
 And there they set their wounded out 
 On a little isle of palms. 
 To lie at ease beneath the trees, 
 And mend them of their harms. 
 
 19. 
 
 And there they did the ship careen, 
 And scoured her fouling keel. 
 And tallowed well her strakes and wales 
 " To grease," they said, *^ her heel." 
 Patched there and here, and rove new gear, 
 And whet their boarding steel. 
 
 [7] 
 
The "Ballad of the " "Royal ^nn " 
 
 20. 
 
 From dawn to dark they plugged and caulked 
 
 The battered picaroon, 
 
 But when the purple tropic night 
 
 Swept down that still lagoon, 
 
 They went ashore to drink and whore, 
 
 And dance, beneath the moon. 
 
 21. 
 
 The moon was new, the moon she grew 
 
 And twice did ripe and wane 
 
 Before the '* Royal Ann" was trim 
 
 And the sick eased of their pain. 
 
 Then they filled the butts, and burnt the 
 
 huts, 
 And towed to sea again. 
 
 22. 
 
 For twenty months the ** Royal Ann " 
 
 Unceasing plied her trade. 
 
 Two lean black galleys sailed beside 
 
 To scout and lend her aid. 
 
 They swept the Main, a hurricane 
 
 Of shot and flame and blade. 
 
 [8] 
 
The Ballad of the ^^ Royal Ann " 
 
 23. 
 
 John Bassett smelt the Devon spring 
 
 The warm red Devon loam. 
 
 John Bassett dreamed of his true love 
 
 Amid the orchards* foam. 
 
 '*One plunder more, but one/' he swore 
 
 '' And rU go get me home." 
 
 24. 
 San Marco is a pleasant place 
 With bells upon its towers, 
 With caballeros in its streets 
 And donas in its bowers, 
 Who take the air upon the Square 
 In the sweet evening hours. 
 
 25. 
 San Marco is a haughty place 
 With ship-ways all a-hum. 
 With companies of musketeers 
 That march to tap o' drum ; 
 And there in packs on llama backs 
 The Aztec treasures come. 
 
 [9] 
 
The Ballad of the ^^ Royal Ann " 
 
 26, 
 
 San Marco is a holy place 
 
 It hath a bishop's care ; 
 
 A triple-domed cathedral broods 
 
 Upon the teeming Square ; 
 
 A Virgin stands with outstretched hands 
 
 Above the altar there. 
 
 27. 
 John Bassett to San Marco came 
 While all San Marco slept, 
 In from the sea, with muffled oars, 
 His stealthy long-boats crept. 
 Each following each, till on the beach 
 The grating kelsons leapt. 
 
 28. 
 John Bassett stabbed the drowsy guards 
 And swung their cannon round ; 
 He caught the soldiers in their beds 
 And made their sleep more sound. 
 The bishop crawled, and wept and bawled 
 And him they kicked and bound. 
 
 [10] 
 
The Ballad of the " Royal Ann '' 
 29. 
 
 The seamen sacked the magazines 
 
 Of all their goodly store ; 
 
 They prised the flags for money bags 
 
 Beneath the bishop's floor. 
 
 They left the rich without a stitch, 
 
 Then tortured them for more. 
 
 30. 
 And up and down the shrieking town 
 Went Bassett's privateers 
 They dragged the women out, and tore 
 The earrings from their ears. 
 And, mad for gold, stripped young and old, 
 E'en dead men on their biers. 
 
 31. 
 Into the dark cathedral burst 
 The crazed marauder bands. 
 They saw the Virgin stand above. 
 And the jewels on her hands. 
 Oh bright they flashed ! all fire-besplashed 
 From the tarred and flaming brands. 
 
 [II] B 
 
The Ballad of the " Royal Ann " 
 32. 
 
 They leapt aloft like raving dogs, 
 And brought her crashing down. 
 They ripped the gleaming brooches oft 
 Her stift* embroidered gown ; 
 Her great pearl strings, and finger rings, 
 Her gem encrusted crown. 
 
 33. 
 Three days they held San Marco town 
 With culverin and sword, 
 While the '' Royal Ann " lay off" the bar, 
 And took the spoils aboard, 
 And each man drank until he sank 
 Awash before the Lord. 
 
 34. 
 Three days they bode, but on the fourth 
 They took the morning tide. 
 The ** Royal Ann " stood out to sea 
 The galleys close beside. 
 Their trumpets blew, their pennons flew 
 Dawn-flushed and crimson dyed. 
 
 [12] 
 
The Ballad of the ^^ Royal Ann " 
 
 35. 
 They doused their top-sails to St. Mark's 
 And fired a parting gun. 
 The yonkers on the yard-arms cheered 
 To see the Spaniards run. 
 The mainsails swelled. Due East they held 
 Toward the rising sun. 
 
 36. 
 Right gallantly they put to sea, 
 And then the wind did pass, 
 The high sun beat upon the fleet 
 From a dome of burnished brass. 
 Their bells tolled as they dipped and rolled 
 On a sea of molten glass. 
 
 37. 
 The sun went down behind the coast. 
 Night draped them with her pall. 
 There in the dark, each drunken bark 
 Rolled till her masts would fall 
 Snapping the shrouds. Dawn came with 
 
 clouds, 
 But came no wind at all. 
 
 [13] 
 
The Ballad of the ^^ Royal Ann '' 
 38. 
 
 The yards they creaked, the rats they 
 
 squeaked 
 Among the straining beams ; 
 The tackles jerked, the timbers worked 
 The caulkings from their seams, 
 The men lay stretched, and groaned, and 
 
 retched. 
 Or raved in dreadful dreams. 
 
 39. 
 The red sun came belted in flame, 
 Oh blinding bright he shone ! 
 The swell writhed like a stricken beast, 
 A slimy swell and wan. 
 But no wind stirred, night came, the third. 
 And still the roll went on. 
 
 40. 
 On the third night, a dazzling light 
 Flared out full suddenly. 
 It swept towards the tumbling ships, 
 Pausing between the three. 
 And the pale Virgin of St. Mark's 
 Rose dripping from the sea. 
 
 [14] 
 
The Ballad of the " Royal Ann '' 
 41. 
 
 Between those black and bloody hawks, 
 
 She, like a silver dove, 
 
 Hung in a blaze of golden rays 
 
 That drenched her from above, 
 
 And in her face did Bassett trace 
 
 The sad eyes of his love. 
 
 42. 
 The blocks they clapped, the halyards 
 
 slapped, 
 The ships they dipped and rolled, 
 But never a seaman made a sound, 
 They were no longer bold. 
 Their brows were wet with a trickling sweat 
 Of terror, deathly cold. 
 
 43. 
 In a poor shift the Virgin stood. 
 Salt drops ran from its hem, 
 Her head was bare to the night air, 
 Bare of its diadem. 
 
 And as they gazed in awe, she raised 
 Her dripping hands to them. 
 
 [15] 
 
The Ballad of the ^' Royal Ann '' 
 
 44. 
 Then loud the ancient pilot cried, 
 ** She pleadeth for her own. 
 Give back, give back the gems ye stole. 
 Make haste ye to atone. 
 Else here v^e stay till Judgment day. 
 Rotted to blackened bone." 
 
 45. 
 They took the gem-encrusted crown 
 And placed it in a boat. 
 Her finger-rings, the great pearl strings 
 Torn from her lily throat. 
 Into the stark, engulfing dark 
 They watched the pinnace float. 
 
 46. 
 And suddenly the beam was gone. 
 Gone was the vision too. 
 But the stars came out across the sky 
 Like a drift of silver dew, 
 A sweet wind stirred, the bow-wave purred, 
 As the great sails filled and drew. 
 
 C16] 
 
The Ballad of the ^^ Royal Ann " 
 
 47. 
 
 The seamen on John Bassett cried, 
 
 ** Captain, a breeze, a breeze ! 
 
 Let us begone upon our course, 
 
 Out of these cursed seas ! " 
 
 But the captain stayed — as though he 
 
 prayed — 
 Stone-dead upon his knees. 
 
 [17] 
 
The 3Ioor Stream 
 
 (Lamorna.) 
 
 Wind-borne his summons came for her 
 Where on the moors she lay. 
 
 Dawn set the world aflame for her 
 And swept the stars away. 
 
 She heard the Sea's voice swell again, 
 ** Oh come my own, my sweet ! " 
 
 She trembled with its spell again 
 And sped her crystal feet. 
 
 And now by reedy valley-ways 
 
 She hastens to his calls. 
 By willow-latticed alley-ways 
 
 And creaming waterfalls. 
 
 The choirs of linnets trill to her, 
 ''Oh little bride, good-bye!" 
 
 The blackbird bugles shrill to her 
 From out the April sky. 
 
 [18] 
 
The 3^oor Stream 
 
 Sun-sparkling, and a-quiver she 
 Comes dancing from above, 
 
 With silver bells a-shiver, she 
 Runs laughing to her love. 
 
 And long he sings and strong he sings, 
 
 His thundrous music fills 
 The valley, and the song he sings 
 
 Rolls up the golden hills. 
 
 [19] 
 
The Fair 
 
 Look up ! my child ; the sirens whoop 
 Shrill invitations to the Fair, 
 The gaudy swing-boats soar and swoop, 
 The Gavioli organs blare ; 
 Bull-throated showmen, bracken-brown, 
 Compete to shout each other down. 
 
 Behold the booths of gingerbread ! 
 Of nougat and of peppermints. 
 The stall of toys, where overhead 
 Balloons of gay translucent tints 
 Float on the breeze, and drift and sway ; 
 Fruit of a fairy vine are they. 
 
 Within this green, fantastic grot 
 
 Bright coloured balls are danced and spun 
 
 On jets C* 'Ere Lovey, 'ave a shot' "), 
 
 A gipsy lady tends a gun, 
 
 A very rose of gipsy girls. 
 
 With earrings glinting in her curls. 
 
 [20] 
 
The Fair 
 
 Will marvels cease ? This humble booth 
 
 Enshrines a dame of royal birth, 
 
 Princess Badroulboudour, forsooth, 
 
 The fattest princess on the earth. 
 
 Come, we will stand where kings have stood, 
 
 And you shall pinch her — if you're good. 
 
 The brasses gleam, the mirrors flash, 
 How splendid is the Round-About I 
 The organ brays, the cymbals clash, 
 The spotted horses bound about 
 Their whirling platform, full of beans, 
 And country girls ride by like queens. 
 
 Professor Battling Bendigo 
 (Ex ten-stone champion of the West) 
 Parades the stage before his show. 
 And swells his biceps and his chest ; 
 " Is England's man'ood dead and gone ? " 
 He asks, ** Won't no one take me on ? " 
 
 A big drum booms, revolvers crack ; 
 Who is this hero that appears, 
 
 [21] 
 
The Fair 
 
 A scarlet tunic on his back, 
 His whiskers curling round his ears ? 
 'Tis he who drew the jungle's sting, 
 Diabolo, the Lion King. 
 
 Within are birds beyond belief. 
 And creatures colourful and quaint ; 
 Lean dingoes weighed with secret grief, 
 And monkey humorists who ain't, 
 Bears, camels, pards. . . . Look up, my dear 
 The wonders of the world are here I 
 
 [22] 
 
<iA Cornish Lullaby 
 
 A.D. 1760. 
 
 Sleep, my little ugling, 
 Daddy's gone a-smuggling, 
 Daddy's gone to Roscoff in the " Mevagissey 
 Maid," 
 A sloop of ninety tons 
 With ten brass carriage-guns, 
 To teach the King's ships manners and 
 respect for honest trade. 
 
 Hush, my joy and sorrow, 
 Daddy'll come to-morrow, 
 Bringing baccy, tea and snuflf and brandy 
 home from France ; 
 And he'll run the goods ashore 
 While the old Collectors snore, 
 And the black dragooners gamble in the 
 dens of Penzance. 
 
 Rock-a-by, my honey, 
 Daddy's making money, 
 
 [233 
 
A Cornish luullaby 
 
 You shall be a gentleman and sail with 
 privateers, 
 With a silver cup for sack, 
 A blue coat on your back, 
 With diamonds on your finger-bones and 
 gold rings in your ears. 
 
 [24] 
 
e^ Cornish Cottage 
 
 Beside the clock two spaniels stand, 
 Two china spaniels, golden spotted. 
 On a lace doily (contraband) 
 Beams a red-faced geranium (potted). 
 
 Framed portraits rest on woollen mats, 
 Black-bearded smugglers with their spouses, 
 The gentlemen wear bowler hats. 
 The ladies sport their Sunday blouses. 
 
 Two pictures decorate the wall, 
 Vesuvius, spouting sparks and ashes, 
 The brig ^* Calypso'* in a squall. 
 Full-sailed despite the lightning flashes. 
 
 Without, the dark Atlantic flings 
 Against the cliff* its booming surges. 
 And, as a shell, this snug room rings 
 With its reverberating dirges. 
 
 [2s3 
 
A Cornish Cottage 
 
 Shaking the door the night winds whine, 
 Like outcast mongrels shrill and shifting. 
 Seaward, the tossing ship-lights shine, 
 Ruby and green, like fire-flies drifting. 
 
 [26] 
 
The Reefs, 
 
 (Isles of Scilly.) 
 
 Who sank the *'Primo"? 
 
 ** I," said the Seven Stones, 
 
 " And then ate her bones. 
 She crashed bows on with her sails in^tatters, 
 I broke her up as a mallet shatters 
 An (tgg. She didn't take long to vanish. 
 I heard her people praying in Spanish. 
 In the boiling lather of surf that draped me, 
 And only a single dago escaped me, 
 
 I sank the * Primo.'" 
 
 Who sank the ** Sussex *' ? 
 
 " I,'' said the Seal, 
 
 ** I ripped up her keel. 
 She came from Baltimore carrying cattle, 
 And oh but I laughed to see 'em battle 
 For shore, the blockheads, mooing and 
 blowing, 
 
 [27] C 
 
The Reefs 
 
 With whirlpools sucking and currents 
 
 towing 
 Them back. They sank where the grey 
 
 rock cod is ; 
 The sea was thick with their drifting bodies. 
 I sank the * Sussex/ " 
 
 Who sank the '* Association " ? 
 
 " I/' said the Gilstone, 
 
 *' She sank like a millstone. 
 A ship o' the line, a huge first-rater ; 
 I sank the * Eagle ' and * Romney ' later. 
 The cabin-boy, who was born in a hovel, 
 Lord High Admiral Cloudesley Shovel, 
 Him I drowned, and his captains round him, 
 A woman buried him where she found him. 
 Out on the sands with the sea-birds wailing — 
 A Lord High Admiral home from sailing. 
 
 I sank the 'Association.* " 
 
 Who sank the *' Schiller"? 
 ** I," said Retarrier, 
 " She challenged my barrier. 
 As big as a church and as tall as a steeple, 
 
 [28] 
 
The Reefs 
 
 Crammed with specie and mails and people, 
 Into my jaws the night-fogs drove her, 
 She struck, and crumpled, and then heeled 
 
 over. 
 Her boats were swamped as she rolled and 
 
 crushed them, 
 The women shrieked till the black seas 
 
 hushed them. 
 I drowned three hundred as easy as winking, 
 Which wasn't a bad night's work I'm 
 
 thinking. 
 I sank the* Schiller. "V 
 
 Then the grim rocks that stand guard about 
 
 Scilly— 
 Buccaboo, Great Smith and Little Granilly, 
 The Barrel of Butter, Dropnose and Hell- 
 weather — 
 Started to boast of their conquests together, 
 Of drowned men and gallant tall vessels 
 
 laid low, 
 While gulls wheeled about them like flurries 
 of snow, 
 
 [29] 
 
The Reefs 
 
 And green combers romped at them smash- 
 ing in thunder, 
 Gurgling and booming in caverns down 
 
 under, 
 Sending their diamond drops flying in 
 
 showers. 
 ** Oh I " said the reefs, ** What a business is 
 
 ours ! 
 Since saints in coracles paddled from Erin 
 (Fishing our waters for sinners and herrin'), 
 And purple-sailed triremes of Hamilco came 
 To the Islands of Tin, weVe played at the 
 
 game. 
 We shattered the galleys of conquering 
 
 Rome, 
 The galleons of Phillip, that scudded for 
 
 home 
 (The sea-molluscs slime on their glittering 
 
 gear), 
 We plundered the plundering French 
 
 privateer. 
 We caught the great Indiaman head in the 
 
 wind, 
 
 [30] 
 
The Reefs 
 
 And gutted her hold of the treasures of Ind ; 
 We broke the proud ships of His Majesty's 
 
 fleet 
 (The bones of their seamen lie bleached at 
 
 our feet), 
 And cloudy tea-clippers that raced from 
 
 Canton, 
 Swept into our clutches — and never went on. 
 Came steel leviathans mocking disaster, 
 We scrapped them as fast — if anything 
 
 faster. 
 So pick up your pilot and take a cross- 
 bearing, 
 Sound us and chart us from Lion to Tearing, 
 And ring us with lighthouses, day-marks 
 
 and buoys, 
 The gales are our hunters, the fogs our 
 
 decoys. 
 We shall not go hungry ; we grin, and we 
 
 wait, 
 Black-fanged and foam-drabbled, the wolves 
 
 at the gate. 
 
 [31] 
 
Maiden s Bower Rocks 
 
 (Isles of Scilly.) 
 
 It was an earl's daughter, she lived in a 
 bower. 
 Ding-dong, ding-a-dong-dey. 
 And she was as fair as a daffodil flower 
 
 That nods in the girdle of May. 
 The floor of her bower was strewn with 
 
 green rushes, 
 Full many knights' banners hung waving 
 
 above. 
 And round her young minstrels stood sing- 
 ing like thrushes 
 Brave ballads of lovers and love, 
 
 Dove- 
 Wooings and cooings of love. 
 But over their harping and over their 
 
 singing. 
 When twilight came mantled in lilac and 
 grey, 
 
 [32] 
 
Maiden s Bower Rocks 
 
 Would sound the sweet clangour of chapel 
 
 bells ringing 
 ** Ding-dong, ding-a-dong-dey," 
 From over the hills and away. 
 
 ft was an earl's daughter, she lived in a 
 bower. 
 Ding-dong, ding-a-dong-dey. 
 But the salt sea arose in a terrible hour 
 
 And smothered her singing in spray. 
 It changed her to rock and she lies in her 
 
 chamber. 
 Her faithful stone minstrels all crouched by 
 
 her side, 
 Above her, weed banners of crimson and 
 amber 
 Wave slow in the sweep of the tide, 
 
 Glide 
 Hither and yon on the tide. 
 Yet down through the fathoms of twilit 
 
 green water, 
 Where eerie lights glimmer and strange 
 shadows sway, 
 
 [33] 
 
Maiden s Bower Rocks 
 
 The steamer bells ring to the earl's little 
 
 daughter 
 '* Ding-dong, ding-a-dong-dey," 
 
 Ring out and sail on and away. 
 
 [34] 
 
Old Woman' s House "^ock 
 
 (Isles of Scilly.) 
 
 *' Old woman, old woman, old woman," said I, 
 '* Tis a mighty queer place to be building a 
 
 home, 
 In the teeth of the gales and the wash of the 
 
 foam, 
 With nothing in view but the sea and the 
 
 sky; 
 It cannot be cheerful, or healthy or dry. 
 Why don^t you go inland and rent a snug 
 
 house. 
 With fowls in the garden and blossoming 
 
 boughs, 
 Old woman, old woman, old woman ? " said I. 
 
 *' A garden have I at my hand 
 
 Beneath the green swell, 
 With pathways of ghmmering sand 
 
 And borders of shell. 
 There twinkle the star-fish and there 
 
 Red jellies unfold. 
 
 [35] 
 
Old Woman s House Rock 
 
 The weed banners ripple and flare, 
 
 All purple and gold, 
 And have I no poultry ? Oh come 
 
 When the Equinox lulls, 
 The air is a-flash and a-hum 
 
 With the tumult of gulls, 
 They whirl in a shimmering cloud 
 
 Sun-bright on the breeze, 
 They perch on my chimneys and crowd 
 
 To nest at my knees, 
 And set their dun chickens to rock on the 
 motherly 
 
 Lap of the seas." 
 
 ** Old woman, old woman, old woman," said I, 
 ** It sounds very well but it cannot be right, 
 This must be a desolate spot of a night. 
 With nothing to hear but the guillemot's cry. 
 The sob of the surf and the wind soughing 
 
 by. 
 Go inland and get you a cat for your knee. 
 And gather your gossips for scandal and tea. 
 Old woman, old woman, old woman," said I. 
 
 [36] 
 
Old Woman s House Rock 
 
 ** No amber-eyed tabby may laze 
 
 And purr at my feet, 
 But here in the blue summer days 
 
 The seal people meet. 
 They bask on my ledges and romp 
 
 In the swirl of the tides, 
 Old bulls with their whiskers and pomp 
 
 And sleek little brides. 
 Yet others come visiting me 
 
 Than grey seal or bird, 
 Men come in the night from the sea 
 
 And utter no word, 
 Wet weed clings to bosom and hair. 
 
 Their faces are drawn. 
 They crouch by my embers and stare, 
 
 And go with the dawn 
 To sleep in my garden, the swell flowing 
 over them 
 
 Like a green lawn." 
 
 [37] 
 
Hard Lewis Rock 
 
 (Isles of Scilly.) 
 
 I. 
 In ages forgotten 
 The Isles of the West 
 Were peopled by giants 
 Colossal of chest, 
 Tough-fibred as oak-trees 
 And ten cubits tall, 
 But Lewis, Hard Lewis, 
 Was toughest of all. 
 
 2. 
 
 Each ate a fat bullock, 
 
 Each drank up a brook, 
 
 Then each would stretch snoring 
 
 Until the hills shook. 
 
 Then at their diversions 
 
 Full stoutly they wrought. 
 
 But Lewis, Hard Lewis, 
 
 He set them at nought. 
 
 [38] 
 
Hard Lewis Rock 
 3. 
 
 They raced on the hill-tops, 
 They swam in the Sound, 
 They tore up huge boulders 
 And hurled them around. 
 They boxed and they wrestled, 
 But all were despatched 
 By Lewis, Hard Lewis, 
 He couldn't be matched. 
 
 4. 
 Then Lewis, Hard Lewis, 
 Grew puffed over-much. 
 He challenged the West-wind, 
 Who slipped from his clutch. 
 He challenged the Thunder, 
 The Lightning defied, 
 Then plunged from Carnweathers 
 And grappled the tide. 
 
 s. 
 
 Now all the old giants 
 Have vanished — save one. 
 
 [39] 
 
Hard Lewis Rock 
 
 Twice daily triumphant, 
 Twice daily outdone, 
 In a coil of green waters, 
 A boil of white suds. 
 Stands Lewis, Hard Lewis, 
 Still battling the floods. 
 
 [40] 
 
Qeorge Teters ^^ck^ 
 
 (Isles of Scilly.) 
 
 '* What keeps you so late, George Peters ? 
 Black is the night with tide-rips fuming, 
 Spindrift flying and breakers booming 
 Bull-mouthed out on the Zantman Ledges. 
 Haul your tackle and hoist your kedges, 
 Set a reef in your jib and run down 
 East — as the others did at sundown. 
 The fish are gone and the Sound's a welter 
 Of foam, so you'd best scud for shelter, 
 George Peters." 
 
 '/It*s blowing strong, but I've known it 
 
 stronger. 
 I've waited long, and I may wait longer. 
 Come time, come tide — but it's neither skate 
 
 That I await 
 
 Nor conger." 
 
 '* Why don't you come in, George Peters ? 
 Hugh Town kitchens are bright and cosy. 
 
 [41] 
 
George Peters Rock 
 
 Hugh Town windows are twinkling rosy 
 Over the harbour. Songs and laughter 
 Echo around the old inn rafter 
 (Tarpaulin shanties naught could muffle), 
 Fiddles jiggle and sea-boots shuffle 
 Horn-pipe measures — while in the Sound 
 
 you 
 Crouch with the breakers moaning round 
 
 you, 
 
 George Peters." 
 
 " It couldn't be counted exactly gay here. 
 There's nothing but black seas breaking 
 
 grey here. 
 But although the shore lights brightly beckon, 
 
 No less I reckon 
 ril stay here." 
 
 *' Does no one wait you, George Peters ? 
 Is there no girl in all St. Mary's 
 Quickens your fancy ? Surely there is 
 Some dark head you have watched in chapel, 
 Some cheek pink as the flower of apple. 
 Curved deliciously, dimple-dented, 
 
 [42] 
 
George Peters Rock 
 
 To wake your blood when the lily-scented, 
 Soft, sea-murmurous dusk is stealing 
 Spangled with stars and sea-lights wheeling, 
 George Peters?" 
 
 '* It* a pale woman I keep tryst with, 
 She slips quietly out of the mist with 
 Never a sound but the water drips, 
 
 And it's cold, cold lips 
 Tm kissed with. 
 ** Her foam-white arms go over and round me, 
 And her green hair binds me as it bound me 
 On that first night she rose from the deep, 
 
 Lulled me to sleep 
 And drowned me." 
 
 [43] 
 
Spanish Ledges 
 
 (Isles of Scilly.) 
 
 The bells of Cadiz clashed for them 
 When they sailed away ; 
 The Citadel guns, saluting, crashed for them 
 
 Over the Bay ; 
 With banners of saints aloft unfolding. 
 Their poops a glitter of golden moulding. 
 Tambours throbbing and trumpets neighing, 
 Into the sunset they went swaying — 
 But the port they sought they wandered 
 
 wide of, 
 And they won't see Spain again this side of 
 Judgment Day. 
 
 For theyVeMown, deep down in Dead Man's 
 
 Town, 
 Twenty fathoms under the clean green 
 
 waters, 
 
 [44] 
 
Spanish Ledges 
 
 No more hauling sheets in the rolling 
 
 treasure fleets, 
 No more stinking rations and mad red 
 
 slaughters ; 
 No galley oars shall bow them, nor shrill 
 
 whips cow them. 
 Frost shall not shrivel them, nor the hot 
 
 sun smite, 
 No more watch to keep, nothing now but 
 
 sleep — 
 Sleep and take it easy in the long twilight. 
 
 The bells of Cadiz tolled for them 
 
 Mournful and glum ; 
 Up in the Citadel, requiems rolled for them 
 
 On the black drum ; 
 Priests had many a mass to handle, 
 Nuestra Sefiora many a candle, 
 And many a lass grew old in praying 
 For a sight of those topsails homewards 
 
 swaying — 
 But it's late to wait till a girl be bride of 
 A Jack who won't be back this side of 
 Kingdom Come. 
 
 [45] 
 
Spanish Ledges 
 
 But little they care down there, down there^ 
 Hid from time and tempest by the jade-green 
 
 waters ; 
 They have loves a-plenty down at fathom 
 
 twenty, 
 Pearly-skinned, silver-finned mer-kings' 
 
 daughters. 
 At the gilt quarter-ports sit the Dons at 
 
 their sports, 
 A-dicing and drinking the red wine and 
 
 white. 
 While the crews forget their wrongs in the 
 
 sea-maids' songs 
 And dance upon the foc'sels in the' grey 
 
 ghost light. 
 
 [46] 
 
The Sea-Lights 
 
 (Isles of Scilly.) 
 
 Flashed Lizard to Bishop 
 '* They're rounding the fish up 
 Close under my cliffs where the cormorants 
 nest, 
 The lugger lamps glitter 
 In hundreds and litter 
 The sea-floor like spangles. What news 
 from the West?" 
 
 Flashed he of the mitre 
 ** The night's growing brighter, 
 There's mist over Annet, but all's clear at 
 sea. 
 Lit up like a city, 
 Her band playing pretty, 
 A big liner's passing. Aye, all's well with 
 me. 
 
 Flashed Wolf to Round Island, 
 *' Oh you upon dry land, 
 
 [47] 
 
The Sea-Lights 
 
 With wild rabbits cropping the pinks at 
 your base, 
 You lubber, you oughter 
 Stand watch in salt water. 
 With tides tearing at you and spray in your 
 face." 
 
 The gun of the Longships 
 Boomed out like a gong — ** Ships 
 Are bleating around me like sheep gone 
 astray. 
 There's fog in my channel 
 As thick as grey flannel — 
 Boom — rumble ! — I'm busy. Excuse me, I 
 pray." 
 
 They winked at each other, 
 As brother to brother, 
 Those red lights and white lights, the 
 summer night through. 
 And steered the stray tramps out. 
 Till dawn snuffed their lamps out. 
 And stained the sea meadows all purple and 
 blue. 
 
 [48] 
 
<iA ballad of T(oads 
 
 A BELL-MARE jangling at the packer's 
 heels, 
 
 Whisking mosquitos with her tattered 
 tail, 
 
 V?ick'burros grunt; the curling train out- 
 reels 
 
 Through red-wood spurs, up dizzy tracks 
 that scale 
 
 The mountain flanks. Lo I where the snows 
 prevail 
 
 The crowned peaks glitter in the morning 
 sun, 
 
 Like kings caparisoned in silver mail. 
 
 Upon these roads are high adventures won. 
 
 Birch canoes travelling on rippling keels, 
 Paddles a-flash in arms that never fail 
 The long day through. The echoing canyon 
 peals 
 
 [49] 
 
A Ballad of Roads 
 
 With river songs. Comes evening primrose 
 pale; 
 
 The North-Lights weave on night's star- 
 dusted veil 
 
 Patterns of fire, flame-pennons finely spun. 
 
 Now camps are made and wood-smoke rises 
 frail. 
 
 Upon these roads are high adventures won. 
 
 'Mid snap of whips, hoarse shouts, sharp 
 
 axle squeals. 
 Tented ox-wagons breast the burning gale. 
 Stout argosies, they roll on groaning 
 
 wheels, 
 Seeking new worlds o'er seas of sand and 
 
 shale. 
 Ports o' Romance whence queenly clippers 
 
 sail, 
 Down the blue ways where foam-maned 
 
 breakers run, 
 Sped by great winds that harp through brace 
 
 and brail 
 Upon these roads are high adventures won. 
 
 [so] 
 
A Ballad of Roads 
 
 Envoi. 
 
 Prince, in your pleasaunce, when the play 
 
 is stale, 
 The champagne flat, cotillons over-done, 
 Break for the Open, strike the Outward 
 
 Trail, 
 Upon these roads are high adventures won. 
 
 [51] 
 
Trairie Song 
 
 (Alberta.) 
 
 The bluffs were all a-thrill with Spring, 
 The trees were like slim dancing girls ; 
 The gay wind set them curtseying, 
 They laughed and shook their young green 
 curls. 
 
 Beneath the blue and golden day. 
 League upon rolling league unfurled, 
 Stretched out and on, away, away. 
 Over the dim edge of the world, 
 
 Stretched out to where, like silver swans 
 The flocks of cloud went drifting by, 
 And fleets of shining galleons 
 Rode down the azure of the sky. 
 
 My mare splashed deep in crocuses, 
 She flung her head and tossed her mane, 
 Jingled her bit and sniffed the breeze. 
 I touched her flank and gave her rein. 
 
 [52] 
 
Prairie Song 
 
 And now she flings the miles behind 
 And hurtles at the miles before, 
 Crazed by the bugles of the wind, 
 Trembling and thrilling to the core. 
 
 The dark cloud-shadows race beside. 
 Like flurried drums her hoof strokes beat. 
 And as a backwards rushing tide 
 The green trail reels beneath her feet. 
 
 She spurns the pools to sphntered glass, 
 Blurred landmarks rise, are past and gone, 
 And still across the sun-lit grass 
 I see my shadow hurrying on. 
 
 [S3] 
 
The Homesteader 
 
 (North-West Territories.) 
 
 If you could come ! ... If in the lonely 
 
 night 
 I might but hear a knock and opening, see 
 You standing there with hands outstretched 
 
 to me — 
 Do dreams come true? Ah dearest, that 
 
 they might ! 
 Time is so long, I hunger for the sight 
 And touch of you. One magic hour that we 
 Might hear again the pipes of Arcady 
 And bridge the years with rainbows of 
 
 delight. 
 
 Without, the snow might fall and bank and 
 
 drift. 
 We would not care nor heed the gale's 
 
 distress, 
 
 [54] 
 
The Homesteader 
 
 When you were gone, and haggard dawn 
 
 should hft 
 To show Lovers bower but a cabin rude, 
 Fresh-hearted I would face the wilderness 
 And hear Hope singing in the solitude. 
 
 [SS] 
 
The Cow-Pony 
 
 (Montana.) 
 
 '' Ki-Yi-Yi, Boy ! 
 Your flop ears cock at that cry, Boy. 
 You mean old, lean old son of a gun. 
 You scrag-maned, mud-stained figger o' fun 1 
 The green-horns snigger an' wink at us, 
 But they won't be ketchin' a blink at us 
 When there's bones and bellows to mend ; 
 For you've a wunnerful way with you, 
 An' it takes a rocket to stay with you, 
 When you get in yer stride, old friend." 
 
 He was got by an outlawed sire, 
 He ran by a scrub-mare's side, 
 He's a bundle o' bone an' wire 
 Sewn up in a buckskin hide. 
 
 He's seethin' with grouch an' hate, 
 He's sly as a snake is sly. 
 
 [56] 
 
The Cow-Pony 
 
 He's a rough old, tough old skate 
 With a roUin', red-rimmed eye. 
 
 He'd take yer arm at a gulp ; 
 Or hammer you round the ring ; 
 He'd kick his father to pulp, 
 An' chew his mother to string. 
 
 He'll buck — if he's in the mind, 
 Swop ends till you're spittin' red. 
 He'll roll — if he feels inclined. 
 Or stand on his doggone head. 
 
 He ain't no picture-card, 
 
 With his lazy, limpin' lope. 
 
 He's blotched with brands and scarred 
 
 With burns from a running rope. 
 
 He ain't no hot-house bloom, 
 No plush-lined ladies' pet. 
 No waft of shy perfume. 
 An' yet, kind sirs, an' yet— 
 
 [57] 
 
The Cow-Pony 
 
 He*d tussle a feed, he would, 
 From an ash-heap, feed him swell. 
 He'd rustle a drink, he could, 
 From the sulphur pits o' Hell. 
 
 When the steers are bone an' skin, 
 The range charred black with drought, 
 When the softer plugs cash in. 
 He'll somehow hmp it out. 
 
 When the blizzard's caught you bent. 
 When yer blinded, lost an' froze. 
 When yer long, last chance has went, 
 He'll nose home through the snows. 
 
 You should see him brace an' wheel 
 With a woolly broncho roped. 
 He's a thing of brains an' steel, 
 An' shifts like lightnin' — soaped. 
 
 You should see^him twist an' skim 
 On the heels of a boltin' calf. 
 Just toss the reins to him. 
 An' sit on his back— an' laugh. 
 
 [S3] 
 
The Cow-Pony 
 
 When the thunder starts the herd, 
 An* the scarey long-horns break, 
 When " Head 'em around *' 's the word, 
 An' you ride for sweet life's sake, 
 
 When the night is black an' blind, 
 When the scrub an' holes is thick, 
 An' the crazed hooves roar behind. 
 Then it's him that does the trick. 
 
 " Whoo-oo-pee, Boy I 
 You're a good enough pardner for me, Boy. 
 You ewe-necked, spur-pecked packet of tricks, 
 You scar-pocked, cow-hocked bundle of sticks. 
 The colts are full of the froth o' youth. 
 The boys are hot with the wrath o' youth, 
 
 But there's many a mile to go. 
 They'll ramp an' gallop an' yelp, an' then 
 Lie down an' holler for help, an' then 
 
 Well show 'em a stunt or so I " 
 
 [59] 
 
The Transport Rider 
 
 (Old Zambesi Road.) 
 
 *' M'puRRu" kicks the glowing logs, 
 And stirs about the blackened pot 
 Of steaming mealie pap ; the dogs 
 Creep up lest they should be forgot. 
 '* Five" twangs his fiddle gut and wails 
 His nightly dirge. With hissing breath, 
 Old " Klass," the driver, spins his tales 
 Of lion hunts and sudden death. 
 
 The oxen slumber at their rhiems, 
 Each by his yoke a shadowy blot, 
 Grunting and wandering in their dreams 
 Through happy meads where droughts are 
 
 not. 
 The million, million stars are lit, 
 The sky is pricked with spark and gem ; 
 They wink down at my fire and it 
 Respectfully winks back at them. 
 
 [60] 
 
The Owld Lad 
 
 Over in Donegal 
 Whin I was young, 
 I heard the story told 
 An* the song sung. 
 I was for wandherin' 
 Whin I was young. 
 
 Now that Fm far away, 
 
 Now that Pm old. 
 
 Now that my song is sung. 
 
 An' my tale told. 
 
 Och 1 but Tm sick for home 
 
 Now that Fm old. 
 
 [61] 
 
Triolet Serenade 
 
 Sweetheart, the moon 
 Her lily face is lifting, 
 
 Oh come you soon ! 
 
 Sweetheart, the moon 
 
 Has witched this night of June, 
 And Time is drifting, drifting. 
 
 Sweetheart, the moon 
 
 Her lily face is hfting. 
 
 [62] 
 
Triolet 
 
 Oh, I'm longing for a kiss 
 
 On her neck so white and slender ! 
 One quick passport into bliss. 
 Oh, Tm longing for a kiss, 
 Surely one she couldn't miss, 
 
 I would be divinely tender 
 Oh, I'm longing for a kiss 
 
 On her neck so white and slender ! 
 
 [63] 
 
Sunward 
 
 When upon the window pane, tap the 
 
 fingers of the rain — 
 An ill rain, a chill rain, dripping from the 
 
 eaves — 
 When the farmers haul their logs and the 
 
 moor is wisht with fogs. 
 And the wind sighs like an old man sweep- 
 ing withered leaves. 
 When the harvest moon is gone and the 
 
 winter creeping on. 
 The dismal northern winter of snow and 
 
 sleet and hail, 
 Then I smell the salty brine, and I see you 
 
 Sweetheart mine, 
 Bowling through the sunshine, under all 
 
 plain sail. 
 
 Aye I see you. Lady Love, the Trade clouds 
 strung above — 
 
 [64] 
 
Sunward 
 
 Bright clouds, white clouds, flocking south 
 
 with you — 
 Like curling lily buds are the flowery sea- 
 suds 
 That bloom beneath your forefoot as you 
 
 tread the meadows blue. 
 Oh the wheeling albatross ! Oh the diamond 
 
 Southern Cross ! 
 Oh the drifts of silver flying fish that skim 
 
 beside your rail ! 
 Though my body's in the north, still my 
 
 heart goes faring forth. 
 Bowling through the sunshine, under all 
 
 plain sail. 
 
 [65] 
 
T)own Channel 
 
 The chime of country steeples, 
 The scents of gorse and musk, 
 The drone of sleepy breakers 
 Come drifting with the dusk. 
 A ruddy moon is rising 
 Like a ripe pomegranate husk. 
 
 The coastwise lights are wheeling, 
 White sword blades in the sky. 
 The dusky hills grow dimmer, 
 The last lights blink and die. 
 Oh, land of home and beauty ! 
 Good-bye, my dear, good-bye I 
 
 l66-\ 
 
3Iagic 
 
 Milk-white, milk-white the Queen Moon 
 rides 
 
 With star-maids as befit her. 
 Under the moon the clipper strides 
 
 On a path of faery glitter. 
 
 She shears the warm, fire-winking sea, 
 As the wine-dark rollers flout her. 
 
 Ghost-pale, ghost-pale in the moonlight she 
 With a belt of flame about her. 
 
 {.^7} 
 
Callao 
 
 She's running up for Callao in the blue 
 
 Pacific weather, 
 She's running free for Callao on a clean and 
 
 even keel, 
 With the ripples chuckling round her run 
 
 and a dainty little feather 
 Of foam beneath her figure-head and a 
 
 ribbon at her heel. 
 
 So Tina, snap your castanets, 
 Tina, Tina, 
 And Tina, tune your old guitar and sing 
 
 your gayest ditty. 
 For a clipper's bound for Callao, 
 
 Callao, 
 
 Callao, 
 With a reefer boy that loves you so, 
 ^ Tina, my pretty. 
 
 [68] 
 
Callc 
 
 ao 
 
 She's rippling on for Callao, to a croon of 
 
 sapphire water, 
 She's bowling on for Callao with kites and 
 
 stun-sails spread, 
 With a wail of sea-birds in her trucks and a 
 
 porpoise to escort her, 
 The Cordillera's snows ashine like pearly 
 
 clouds ahead. 
 
 So, Tina, pick your reddest rose, 
 Tina, Tina, 
 And, Tina, wear your brightest shawl to 
 
 catch a sailor's money. 
 For a clipper's bound for Callao, 
 
 Callao, 
 
 Callao, 
 With a reefer boy who loves you so, 
 Tina, my honey. 
 
 [69] 
 
jIt <iAnchor 
 
 The warm, flower-scented breezes blow 
 Off shore, and on them comes the slow 
 Throbbing of drums, of dancing feet, 
 And Island singing, dreamy sweet. 
 Seaward the fisher torches glow. 
 
 Her anchor-flukes in coral bite, 
 In coral gardens lily white. 
 Her tracery of stays and spars 
 Looms like a black net filled with stars 
 Raked from the blue and glimmering night. 
 
 Against the reefs' encircling fold 
 The breakers shatter, and are rolled 
 Shorewards — smooth, fire-shot hills of glass. 
 She dips to meet them. As they pass 
 Lifts — with her forefoot dribbling gold. 
 
 [70] 
 
Alchemy 
 
 In 'seventy-nine her keel was laid, 
 She did ten years in the coastal trade, 
 But since those days she's been a rover, 
 Tramping the seven seas all over. 
 Tramping them back and fore and sideways. 
 But mostly on uncharted tideways 
 That honest traders had no word of, 
 And gun-boat skippers never heard of. 
 She's wandered where the ice-pack reaches. 
 Seal-poaching on the Behring beaches ; 
 Up sluggish, soupy jungle rivers. 
 Where lurk proas, devils and the shivers. 
 Swopping condemned, corroded rifles 
 For pearls, spice, gold-dust — and such trifles. 
 Off" flowery, fairy isles she's hovered 
 Trading (her customers all covered 
 By maxims ranged along her gunnel), 
 Rigged false masts and a dummy funnel, 
 Flown the White Cross of Island missioners, 
 
 [71] 
 
Alchemy 
 
 Then haled her coppery parishioners 
 
 (Despite their frantic supplications) 
 
 To bondage on remote plantations. 
 
 With bland and glacial effront'ry 
 
 She's flown the flag of every country, 
 
 And changed her name to suit her kidney. 
 
 She's been the '* Walleroo," of Sydney ; 
 
 The *' Oscar Ohlsen," of Carlskrona ; 
 
 The *' Santa Fe," of Barcelona ; 
 
 The *' Kelpie," Leith ; '' II Re," Catania ; 
 
 The ** Konig Haakon," Christiania ; 
 
 To give a typical selection. 
 
 With paint she's altered her complexion, 
 
 And practised manifold disguises. 
 
 Pursuing shady enterprises 
 
 All up and down the world's dim edges. 
 
 Whilst noble ships have split on ledges, 
 
 Or drowned on nights of flame and thunder, 
 
 And eager clippers sailed clean under. 
 
 Still she limps on, battered and rusty. 
 
 Her engines lame, her bottom crusty. 
 
 Her deck house starred with bullet splashes, 
 
 Her fo'c'sle scarred with shrapnel gashes. 
 
 [72] 
 
Alchemy 
 
 Loud with her engines' crazy clamour 
 Into the splendid sunset glamour, 
 Leaky and foul, accursed and haunted. 
 She reels and staggers, nothing daunted. 
 The oily, flame-gilt waters churning. 
 Her rusty hide all glowing, burning. 
 With her every stay a gleaming wire. 
 And her every port-hole flashing fire. 
 Sun-blazoned into the west goes she, 
 A golden ship on a golden sea. 
 
 [73] 
 
Torts 
 
 Some Vancouver's praises sing, 
 Where the silver ranges shine, 
 And the off-shore breezes bring 
 Scents of tamarack and pine. 
 
 Some for Cape Town sigh aloud, 
 Drov^sing on the Mountain's knees, 
 Table Mountain, w^reathed in cloud 
 Brooding o'er the southern seas. 
 
 Some of Hong Kong harbour dream. 
 Where are junks with painted eyes, 
 And the sampan lanterns gleam 
 Like a swarm of fiery flies. 
 
 Kronstad looming gaunt and grim ; 
 Rio, Rio flashing fair ; 
 Papeete, where brown girls swim 
 With hibiscus in their hair. 
 
 [74] 
 
Ports 
 
 Golden Gate or Golden Horn, 
 Lumber ports or ports of spice, 
 Ports of sunset, ports of morn, 
 Blue with summer, grey with ice 
 
 All are havens of delight 
 To poor sailors in from sea. 
 Ah ! but at the fall of night 
 London River calls to me. 
 
 When my years of youth are run. 
 Blown to lee like flying foam. 
 Let me see at set of sun 
 London and the Port of Home. 
 
 [;s] 
 
^w T>raft 
 
 (Pleogstreet, April, 19 15.) 
 
 The mausers snapped, 
 Machine-guns rapped. 
 The field-guns flashed and battered like 
 
 some crazy tropic storm. 
 And they hailed, ** What cheer, Recruity ! 
 Have you come to do your duty ? 
 Did your sweetheart kiss you on the mouth 
 
 and your mother wrap you warm ? " 
 
 The rockets flared, 
 
 A searchlight stared, 
 
 And showed the dead men hanging limp 
 
 across the rusty wire. 
 It winked. *' They're getting fruity, 
 So I think me bold Recruity, 
 You'd best not look on them too long on 
 
 your first night under fire." 
 
!?{ey9 Draft 
 
 The star-shells drooped. 
 
 The Five-nines whooped, 
 
 And roared, ** Well nowyouVe got here and 
 
 the songs and cheers are done. 
 Set your teeth, dear young Recruity, 
 And forget your home and beauty, 
 For there's nothing now but you and us, 
 
 stark Life and Death, my son." 
 
 177] 
 
To a Regiment of Horse 
 
 ^^ Regi Adsumus Colonic 
 (B.E.F., France.) 
 
 The timber-wolves have bayed our fires 
 
 Among the dark Alaskan pine. 
 Our mule-bells rang in jangling choirs 
 
 Along the Andes' naked spine. 
 Our rifles broke Bambarta's spears 
 
 And rolled the waves of impis back. 
 Alberta saw us roping steers, 
 
 And Queensland heard our stock-whips 
 crack. 
 Oh sturdily we used to plough, 
 
 Where Aorangi's cloud-packs cling, 
 Levuka knew our keels — but now 
 
 The Colonies stand to the King. 
 
 Our dog-teams breast the Dawson trail, 
 But other voices whoop them on. 
 
 [78] 
 
To a Regiment of Horse 
 
 By Lotus isles our schooners sail, 
 
 With stranger hands their helms upon. 
 Our fields are waste, our fences rot, 
 
 The wild-pig tramples through our cane, 
 The Southern Cross shall find us not, 
 
 The North Lights look for us in vain. 
 For we, we saw the Flag unfurled. 
 
 And heard immortal trumpets ring. 
 Like God's own summons round the world. 
 
 And we obeyed them, glorying. 
 
 And now the trapper rides beside 
 The palm-oil trader. Knee to knee. 
 
 The stockman and the planter ride 
 The crimson road to victory — 
 
 Oh little land of hearts' desire, 
 
 The earth is broad and fair to roam, 
 
 What offer you but blood and fire ? 
 
 Yet love has led our footsteps home. 
 
 Ave ! High-held our sabres flame. 
 
 Write this above us where we lie, 
 
 '* Back from the wide world's ends]^they 
 came 
 
 And died, and were content to die." 
 
 [79] 
 
Chemin des T)ames 
 
 (France, July, 1917.) 
 
 In silks and satins the ladies went 
 
 Where the breezes sighed and the poplars 
 
 bent, 
 Taking the air of a Sunday morn 
 Midst the red of poppies and gold of corn, 
 Flowery ladies in gold brocades, 
 With negro pages and serving maids. 
 In scarlet coach, or in gilt sedan. 
 With brooch and buckle and flounce and fan, 
 Patch and powder and trailing scent. 
 Under the trees the ladies went. 
 Lovely ladies that gleamed and glowed. 
 As they took the air on the Ladies' Road. 
 
 Boom of thunder and lightning flash 
 The torn earth rocks to the barrage crash : 
 The bullets whine and the bullets sing 
 From the mad machine-guns chattering ; 
 
 [80] 
 
Chemin des Dames 
 
 Black smoke rolling across the mud, 
 Trenches plastered with flesh and blood. 
 The blue ranks lock with the ranks of grey, 
 Stab, and stagger, and sob, and sway ; 
 The living cringe from the shrapnel bursts, 
 The dying moan of their burning thirsts. 
 Moan and die in the gulping slough — 
 Oh, where are the butterfly ladies now ? 
 
 [8iJ 
 
Old Soldiers 
 
 (B.E.F., Nov., 1918.) 
 
 They dug us down and earthed us in, their 
 
 hasty shovels plying, 
 Us, the poor dead of Oudenarde, Ramillies, 
 
 Waterloo, 
 We heard their drum-taps fading and their 
 
 trumpet fanfares dying, 
 As they marched away and left us in the 
 
 dark and silence lying. 
 Home-bound for happy England and the 
 
 green fields that we knew. 
 
 We slept. The seasons went their round. 
 We did not hear the rover 
 
 Winds in our coverlets of grass, the plough- 
 shares tear the mould. 
 
 We did not feel the bridal earth thrill to her 
 April lover, 
 
 [82] 
 
old Soldiers 
 
 Nor hear the song of bees among the 
 
 poppies and the clover, 
 Shadow or sun to us were one and time 
 
 went by untold. 
 
 We woke. The soil about us shook to the 
 
 long roll of thunder — 
 War loose and making music on his crashing 
 
 brazen gongs — 
 The sharp hoof-beat, the thresh of feet 
 
 stirred our old bones down under ; 
 Wheels upon wheels ground overhead ; then 
 
 with a throb of wonder, 
 We heard the chant of Englishmen chanting 
 
 their marching songs. 
 
 Blood of our blood ! We heard them swing 
 
 adown the teeming highways, 
 As we swung once. We heard them shout ; 
 
 we heard the jests they cast, 
 And we dead men remembered them ; blue 
 
 Junes in Devon byways. 
 Women bereft, we loved and left, women 
 
 with sweet and shy ways. 
 
 [83] 
 
Old Soldiers 
 
 These were their race I We strove to rise, 
 but the strong clay held us fast. 
 
 Year in, year out, along the roads the cease- 
 less wagons clattered ; 
 
 Listened we for an English voice ever, ever 
 in vain ; 
 
 Far in the west year out, year in, terrible 
 thunders battered. 
 
 Drumming the doom of whom ? of whom? — 
 Hope in our hearts lay shattered. . . . 
 
 Then we heard the lilt of Highland pipes 
 and English songs again. 
 
 On, ever on, we heard them press; their 
 
 jaunty bugles blended 
 Proudly and clear that we might hear, we 
 
 dead men of old wars, 
 How the red agony was passed and the long 
 
 vigil ended. 
 Now may we sleep in peace again, lapped in 
 
 a vision splendid 
 Of England's banners marching onwards, 
 
 upwards to the stars. 
 
 [84] 
 
The Hairies 
 
 (France, Feb., 19 19.) 
 
 We've carried Guards, Lancers, Hussars 
 
 and Dragoons, 
 We've tugged in the batteries, columns and 
 
 trains. 
 On pave that smoked under white summer 
 
 noons, 
 And tracks that washed out under black 
 
 winter rains. 
 
 We've shivered in standings hock-deep in 
 
 the mud. 
 With matted tails turned to the drift of the 
 
 sleet. 
 We've seen the bombs flash and been 
 
 spattered with blood 
 Of mates as they rolled, belly-ripped, at our 
 
 feet. 
 
 [85] 
 
The Hairies 
 
 We've dragged ammunition up shell-smitten 
 tracks, 
 
 Round bottomless craters, through stump- 
 littered woods, 
 
 When the wagons gave out, took the load 
 on our backs, 
 
 And, somehow or other, delivered the goods. 
 
 But the dread roads, the red roads will see 
 
 us no more, 
 It's England, chum, England for you and for 
 
 me. 
 The country-folk wave us as westwards we 
 
 pour 
 Down the jolly white highways that lead to 
 
 the sea. 
 
 So warp out your transportsand bear us away 
 From the Yser and Somme, from the Ancre 
 
 and the Aisne, 
 From fire-blackened deserts of shell-pitted 
 
 clay, 
 And show us our Cotswolds and Chilterns 
 
 again. 
 
 [86] 
 
The Hairies 
 
 Aye, show us Old England all silverand gold, 
 With the flame o' the gorse and the flower 
 
 o' the thorn, 
 We long for lush meadowlands where we 
 
 were foaled, 
 And boast of great runs with the Belvoir 
 
 and Quorn. 
 
 The Brigadier s long-tailed Arabians glow 
 At thoughts of a chukka with Hurlingham's 
 
 cracks, 
 The Colonel's mare, woman-like, pines for 
 
 the Row, 
 To amble again with the fashionable hacks. 
 
 The pack-pony dreams of a primrosy combe, 
 A leisurely life in a governess cart. 
 Plum-cake and a bottle-nosed gardener- 
 groom. 
 The Clyde has a Wensleydale farm in his 
 heart. 
 
 WeVe plunging and whinnying, silly with 
 bliss, 
 
 [87] 
 
The Hairies 
 
 Forgetting leg-weariness, terror and scars. 
 Ye fair maids of England, Oh blow a soft 
 
 kiss 
 To the hairy old horses come home from 
 
 the wars. 
 
 [88] 
 
zA ballade of battles 
 
 We read of old, heroic deeds, 
 Clanging through Homer's wonder-lay, 
 Of how bronze-harnessed warrior breeds 
 Drave black ships through Aegean spray, 
 And warred until their beards were gray, 
 Because, forsooth, a princeling's glance 
 Was bright and led a queen astray. 
 Then was the flood-tide of Romance. 
 
 Oh, for the rain-swept Cregy meads. 
 When Edward's goose-quills bit their way 
 Among King Philip's knights and steeds, 
 Humbling their arrogant array. 
 That was the game for men to play. 
 To take a prize or snap a lance. 
 To sack a town or bite the clay : 
 Then was the flood-tide of Romance. 
 
 [89] 
 
^ ballade of battles 
 
 The rapt imagination feeds 
 On Rupert spurring plumed and gay, 
 'Gainst iron horsemen chanting creeds, 
 While deep drums roll and trumpets bray. 
 The thund'ring squadrons crash and sway ; 
 Sword rings on sword, a radiance 
 Of white steel whirls above the fray. 
 Then was the flood-tide of Romance. 
 
 Envoi. 
 Prince of some peace-lapped latter day, 
 Reading of our locked lines in France, 
 Methinks you, in your turn, shall say — 
 '* Then was the flood-tide of Romance." 
 
 THE END. 
 
 PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN BY WOODS & SONS, LTD., LONDON, N. I. 
 
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