The Liner she's a lady, and if a war should come,

The Man-o'-War's 'er 'usband, and 'e 'd bid 'er stay at home; But, oh, the little cargo-boats that fill with every tide! 'E'd 'ave to up an' fight for them, for they are England's pride.

The Liner she's a lady, but if she was n't made,

There still would be the cargo-boats for 'ome an' foreign trade.

The Man-o'-War's 'er 'usband, but if we was n't 'ere,

'E would n't have to fight at all for 'ome an' friends so dear.

'Ome an' friends so dear, Jenny, 'angin' round the Yard, All the way by Fratton tram down to Portsmouth 'Ard; Anythin' for business, an' we're growin' old 'Ome an' friends so dear, Jenny, waitin' in the cold!

MINE

THE FIRST CHANTEY

1896

INE was the woman to me, darkling I found her: Haling her dumb from the camp, held her and bound her. Hot rose her tribe on our track ere I had proved her; Hearing her laugh in the gloom, greatly I loved her.

Swift through the forest we ran, none stood to guard us,
Few were my people and far; then the flood barred us
Him we call Son of the Sea, sullen and swollen.
Panting we waited the death, stealer and stolen.

Yet ere they came to my lance laid for the slaughter,
Lightly she leaped to a log lapped in the water;
Holding on high and apart skins that arrayed her,
Called she the God of the Wind that He should aid her.

Life had the tree at that word (Praise we the Giver!)
Otter-like left he the bank for the full river.

Far fell their axes behind, flashing and ringing,
Wonder was on me and fear

Low lay the land we had left.

yet she was singing!

Now the blue bound us,

Even the Floor of the Gods level around us.

Whisper there was not, nor word, shadow nor showing, Till the light stirred on the deep, glowing and growing.

Then did He leap to His place flaring from under,
He the Compeller, the Sun, bared to our wonder.
Nay, not a league from our eyes blinded with gazing,
Cleared He the Gate of the World, huge and amazing!

This we beheld (and we live) - the Pit of the Burning!
Then the God spoke to the tree for our returning;
Back to the beach of our flight, fearless and slowly,
Back to our slayers went he: but we were holy.

Men that were hot in that hunt, women that followed,
Babes that were promised our bones, trembled and wallowed:
Over the necks of the Tribe crouching and fawning
Prophet and priestess we came back from the dawning!

THUS said the Lord in the Vault above the Cherubim, Calling to the Angels and the Souls in their degree: "Lo! Earth has passed away

On the smoke of Judgment Day.

That Our word may be established shall We gather up sea?"

the

Loud sang the souls of the jolly, jolly mariners: "Plague upon the hurricane that made us furl and flee! But the war is done between us,

In the deep the Lord hath seen us

Our bones we'll leave the barracout', and God may sink the sea!

Then said the soul of Judas that betrayèd Him:

"Lord, hast Thou forgotten Thy covenant with me? How once a year I go

To cool me on the floe?

And Ye take my day of mercy if Ye take away the sea!"

Then said the soul of the Angel of the Off-shore Wind: (He that bits the thunder when the bull-mouthed breakers flee):

"I have watch and ward to keep

O'er Thy wonders on the deep,

And Ye take mine honour from me if Ye take away the sea!"

Loud sang the souls of the jolly, jolly mariners:
"Nay, but we were angry, and a hasty folk are we!
If we worked the ship together

Till she foundered in foul weather,

Are we babes that we should clamour for a vengeance on the sea?"

Then said the souls of the slaves that men threw overboard: "Kennelled in the picaroon a weary band were we;

But Thy arm was strong to save,

And it touched us on the wave,

And we drowsed the long tides idle till Thy Trumpets tore the sea."

Then cried the soul of the stout Apostle Paul to God: "Once we frapped a ship, and she laboured woundily. There were fourteen score of these,

And they blessed Thee on their knees,

When they learned Thy Grace and Glory under Malta by the sea!"

Loud sang the souls of the jolly, jolly mariners, Plucking at their harps, and they plucked unhandily: "Our thumbs are rough and tarred,

And the tune is something hard —

May we lift a Deepsea Chantey such as seamen use at sea?"

Then said the souls of the gentlemen-adventurers
Fettered wrist to bar all for red iniquity:

"Ho, we revel in our chains

O'er the sorrow that was Spain's;

Heave or sink it, leave or drink it, we were masters of the

sea!"

Up spake the soul of a grey Gothavn 'speckshioner (He that led the flinching in the fleets of fair Dundee): "Oh, the ice-blink white and near,

And the bowhead breaching clear!

Will Ye whelm them all for wantonness that wallow in the sea?"

Loud sang the souls of the jolly, jolly mariners,

Crying: "Under Heaven, here is neither lead nor lee! Must we sing for evermore

On the windless, glassy floor?

Take back your golden fiddles and we 'll beat to open sea!"

Then stooped the Lord, and He called the good sea up to Him,

And 'stablished its borders unto all eternity,

That such as have no pleasure

For to praise the Lord by measure,

They may enter into galleons and serve Him on the sea.

Sun, wind, and cloud shall fail not from the face of it, Stinging, ringing spindrift, nor the fulmar flying free; And the ships shall go abroad

To the Glory of the Lord

Who heard the silly sailor-folk and gave them back their sea!

THE LONG TRAIL

THERE'S a whisper down the field where the year has shot her yield,

And the ricks stand grey to the sun,

Singing: "Over then, come over, for the bee has quit the clover,

"And your English summer 's done."