#English
It is good to be out on the road,… Going through meadow and village,… Through the grey light drift of th… Under the flying white clouds, and… And to halt at the chattering broo…
In the harbour, in the island, in… Are the tiny white houses and the… And day-long, night-long, the cool… Of the steady Trade Winds blowing… There is the red wine, the nutty…
Oh I’ll be chewing salted horse a… And dancing with the stars to watc… Hearkening to the bow-wash and the… Of a thousand tons of clipper runn… For the tug has got the tow-rope a…
Four bells were struck, the watch… All work aboard was over for the h… And some men sang and others playe… Or mended clothes or watched the s… The bursting west was like an open…
When I am buried, all my thoughts… Will be reduced to lists of dates… And long before this wandering fle… The dates which made me will be al… And none will know the gleam there…
I have seen dawn and sunset on moo… Coming in solemn beauty like slow… I have seen the lady April bringi… Bringing the springing grass and t… I have heard the song of the bloss…
We’re bound for blue water where t… It’s time to get the tacks aboard,… The crowd’s at the capstan and the… “A long pull, a strong pull, and w… The bow-wash is eddying, spreading…
The Loch Achray was a clipper tal… With seven-and-twenty hands in all… Twenty to hand and reef and haul, A skipper to sail and mates to baw… “Tally on to the tackle-fall,
A wind’s in the heart of me, a fi… I am tired of brick and stone and… I hunger for the sea’s edge, the l… Where the wild old Atlantic is sh… Oh I’ll be going, leaving the noi…
Long long ago, when all the glitte… Was heaven itself, when drunkards… Were like mazed kings shaking at g… To acts of war that sickle men lik… When the white clover opened Para…
One road leads to London, One road leads to Wales, My road leads me seawards To the white dipping sails. One road leads to the river,
The meet was at “The Cock and Py… By Charles and Martha Enderby,” The grey, three-hundred-year-old i… Long since the haunt of Benjamin The highwayman, who rode the bay.
I’m going to be a pirate with a br… And an island in the Spanish Main… And a silver flagon full of red wi… Like a fine old salt-sea scavenger… With a sandy creek to careen in, a…
I never see the red rose crown the… Nor feel the young grass underneat… Without the thought “This living… Is earth’s remembrance of a beauty… Surely where all this glory is dis…
“Goneys an’ gullies an’ all o’ the… They ain’t no birds, not really”,… “Not mollies, nor gullies, nor gon… “But simply the spirits of mariner… “Them birds goin’ fishin’ is nothi…
