[Rhodes22-list] Another Christmas poem
Mark Kaynor
mark at kaynor.org
Wed Dec 22 20:37:25 EST 2004
This was on a Chesapeake list I'm on. I really like it and thought I'd share
it with you all. Have a Merry Christmas and a happy New Year. Best wishes to
you all.
Mark & Julie
Christmas At Sea
Robert Louis Stevenson
The sheets were frozen hard, and they cut the naked hand; The decks were
like a slide, where a seaman scarce could stand, The wind was a nor'-wester,
blowing squally off the sea; And cliffs and spouting breakers were the only
things a-lee.
They heard the surf a-roaring before the break of day; But 'twas only with
the peep of light we saw how ill we lay.
We tumbled every hand on deck instanter, with a shout, And we gave her the
maintops'l, and stood by to go about.
All day we tack'd and tack'd between the South Head and the North; All day
we haul'd the frozen sheets, and got no further forth; All day as cold as
charity, in bitter pain and dread, For very life and nature we tack'd from
head to head.
We gave the South a wider berth, for there the tide-race roar'd; But every
tack we made we brought the North Head close aboard; So's we saw the cliffs
and houses, and the breakers running high, And the coastguard in his garden
with his glass against his eye.
The frost was on the village roofs as white as ocean foam; The good red
fires were burning bright in every 'longshore home; The windows sparkled
clear, and the chimneys volley'd out; And I vow we sniff'd the victuals as
the vessel went about.
The bells upon the church were rung with a mighty jovial cheer; For it's
just that I should tell you how (of all days of the year) This day of our
adversity was blessed Christmas morn, And the house above the coastguard's
was the house where I was born.
O well I saw the pleasant room, the pleasant faces there, My mother's silver
spectacles, my father's silver hair; And well I saw the firelight, like a
flight of homely elves Go dancing round the china-plates that stand upon the
shelves!
An well I knew the talk they had, the talk that was of me, Of the shadow on
the household and the son that went to sea; An O the wicked fool I seem'd,
in every kind of way, To be here and hauling frozen ropes on blessed
Christmas Day.
They lit the high sea-light, and the dark began to fall.
'All hands to loose topgallant sails!' I heard the captain call.
'By the Lord, she'll never stand it,' our first mate Jackson cried.
. . . 'It's the one way or the other, Mr. Jackson,' he replied.
She stagger'd to her bearings, but the sails were new and good, And the ship
smelt up to windward just as though she understood.
As the winter's day was ending, in the entry of the night, We clear'd the
weary headland, and pass'd below the light.
And they heaved a mighty breath, every soul on board but me, As they saw her
nose again pointing handsome out to sea; But all that I could think of, in
the darkness and the cold, Was just that I was leaving home and my folks
were growing old.
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