Captain Lean

Out of the East a hurricane
    Swept down on Captain Lean -
That mariner and gentleman
    Will ne'er again be seen.

He sailed his ship against the foes
    Of his own country dear,
But now in the trough of the billows
    An aimless course doth steer.

Powder was violets to his nostril,
    Sweet the din of the fighting-line,
Now he is flotsam on the seas,
    And his bones are bleached with brine.

The stars move up along the sky,
    The moon she shines so bright,
And in that solitude the foam
    Sparkles unearthly white.

This is the tomb of Captain Lean,
    Would a straiter please his soul?
I trow he sleeps in peace,
    Howsoever the billows roll!

Walter De La Mare

Walter De La Mare was an English poet, short story writer, and novelist, best remembered for his works for children and his poem "The Listeners". Born in 1873 in Charlton, Kent, De La Mare's unique blend of haunting, dreamlike imagery and masterful command of language earned him a lasting place in English literature. He was awarded the Order of Merit in 1953, and his works continue to be celebrated for their ethereal and evocative quality.

Walter De La Mare

As Lucy Went A-Walking

Walter De La Mare, Simple Poetry

Chicken

Walter De La Mare, Simple Poetry

Home

Walter De La Mare, Simple Poetry

The Blind Boy

Walter De La Mare, Simple Poetry

English

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The Englishman

I met a sailor in the woods,
    A silver ring wore he,
His hair hung black, his eyes shone blue,
    And thus he said to me: -

'What country, say, of this round earth,
    What shore of what salt sea,
Be this, my son, I wander in,
    And looks so strange to me?'

Says I, 'O foreign sailorman,
    In England now you be,
This is her wood, and this her sky,
    And that her roaring sea.'

He lifts his voice yet louder,
    'What smell be this,' says he,
'My nose on the sharp morning air
    Snuffs up so greedily?'

Says I, 'It is wild roses
    Do smell so winsomely,
And winy briar too,' says I,
    'That in these thickets be.'

'And oh!' says he, 'what leetle bird
    Is singing in yon high tree,
So every...

Walter De La Mare

The Child And The Mariner

A dear old couple my grandparents were,
And kind to all dumb things; they saw in Heaven
The lamb that Jesus petted when a child;
Their faith was never draped by Doubt: to them
Death was a rainbow in Eternity,
That promised everlasting brightness soon.
An old seafaring man was he; a rough
Old man, but kind; and hairy, like the nut
Full of sweet milk. All day on shore he watched
The winds for sailors' wives, and told what ships
Enjoyed fair weather, and what ships had storms;
He watched the sky, and he could tell for sure
What afternoons would follow stormy morns,
If quiet nights would end wild afternoons.
He leapt away from scandal with a roar,
And if a whisper still possessed his mind,
He walked about and cursed it for a plague.
He took offence at Heaven ...

William Henry Davies

Never More, Sailor

Never more, Sailor,
Shalt thou be
Tossed on the wind-ridden,
Restless sea.
Its tides may labour;
All the world
Shake 'neath that weight
Of waters hurled:
But its whole shock
Can only stir
Thy dust to a quiet
Even quieter.
Thou mock'd'st at land
Who now art come
To such a small
And shallow home;
Yet bore the sea
Full many a care
For bones that once
A sailor's were.
And though the grave's
Deep soundlessness
Thy once sea-deafened
Ear distress,
No robin ever
On the deep
Hopped with his song
To haunt thy sleep.

Walter De La Mare

The Captain

A LEGEND OF THE NAVY


He that only rules by terror
Doeth grievous wrong.
Deep as hell I count his error.
Let him hear my song.
Brave the Captain was; the seamen
Made a gallant crew,
Gallant sons of English freemen,
Sailors bold and true.
But they hated his oppression;
Stern he was and rash,
So for every light transgression
Doomd them to the lash.
Day by day more harsh and cruel
Seemd the Captains mood.
Secret wrath like smotherd fuel
Burnt in each mans blood.
Yet he hoped to purchase glory,
Hoped to make the name
Of his vessel great in story,
Wheresoeer he came.
So they past by capes and islands,
Many a harbor-mouth,
Sailing under palmy highlands
Far within the South.
On a day when they were going

Alfred Lord Tennyson

The Shadow Boatswain

Don't you know the sailing orders?
It is time to put to sea,
And the stranger in the harbor
Sends a boat ashore for me.

With the thunder of her canvas
Coming on the wind again,
I can hear the Shadow Boatswain
Piping to his shadow men.

Is it firelight or morning,
That red flicker on the floor?
Your good-by was braver, sweetheart,
When I sailed away before.

Think of this last lovely summer!
Love, what ails the wind to-night?
What's he saying in the chimney
Turns your berry cheek so white?

What a morning! How the sunlight
Sparkles on the outer bay,
Where the brig lies waiting for me
To trip anchor and away!

That's the Doomkeel. You may know her
By her clean run aft; and, then,
Don't you hear the Shadow B...

Bliss Carman

Cap'n Storm-Along

They are buffeting out in the bitter grey weather,
    Blow the man down, bullies, blow the man down!
Sea-lark singing to Golden Feather,
    And burly blue waters all swelling aroun'.
There's Thunderstone butting ahead as they wallow,
    With death in the mesh of their deep-sea trawl;
There's Night-Hawk swooping by wild Sea-swallow;
    And old Cap'n Storm-along leading 'em all.

    Bashing the seas to a welter of white,
    Look at the fleet that he leads to the fight.
    O, they're dancing like witches to open the ball;
    And old Cap'n Storm-along's lord of 'em all.

Now, where have you seen such a bully old sailor?
    His eyes are as blue as the scarf at his throat;
And he rolls on the bridge of his br...

Alfred Noyes