The Seaman's Song.

("Adieu, patrie.")

[Bk. V. ix., Aug. 1, 1852.]


    Farewell the strand,
    The sails expand
    Above!
    Farewell the land
    We love!
Farewell, old home where apples swing!
Farewell, gay song-birds on the wing!

    Farewell, riff-raff
    Of Customs' clerks who laugh
    And shout:
    "Farewell!" We'll quaff
    One bout
To thee, young lass, with kisses sweet!
Farewell, my dear - the ship flies fleet!

The fog shuts out the last fond peep,
As 'neath the prow the cast drops weep.
Farewell, old home, young lass, the bird!
The whistling wind alone is heard:
    Farewell! Farewell!

Victor-Marie Hugo

Victor-Marie Hugo was a French poet, novelist, and dramatist of the Romantic movement. He is considered one of the greatest French writers, with works such as "Les Misérables" and "The Hunchback of Notre-Dame." His literary works often explore themes of justice, love, and human rights. In addition to his literary achievements, he was also a politician and human rights activist. Hugo's influence extends beyond literature into politics and society.

Victor-Marie Hugo

Childhood.

Victor-Marie Hugo, Simple Poetry

Ye Mariners Who Spread Your Sails.

Victor-Marie Hugo, Simple Poetry

Cornflowers.

Victor-Marie Hugo, Simple Poetry

The First Black Flag.

Victor-Marie Hugo, Simple Poetry

English

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At Sea

'Farewell and adieu' was the burden prevailing
Long since in the chant of a home-faring crew;
And the heart in us echoes, with laughing or wailing,
Farewell and adieu.

Each year that we live shall we sing it anew,
With a water untravelled before us for sailing
And a water behind us that wrecks may bestrew.

The stars of the past and the beacons are paling,
The heavens and the waters are hoarier of hue:
But the heart in us chants not an all unavailing
Farewell and adieu.

Algernon Charles Swinburne

Sea-Adventurers' Song.

("En partant du Golfe d'Otrante.")

[Bk. XXVIII.]


We told thirty when we started
From port so taut and fine,
But soon our crew were parted,
Till now we number nine.

Tom Robbins, English, tall and straight,
Left us at Aetna light;
He left us to investigate
What made the mountain bright;
"I mean to ask Old Nick himself,
(And here his eye he rolls)
If I can't bring Newcastle pelf
By selling him some coals!"

In Calabree, a lass and cup
Drove scowling Spada wild:
She only held her finger up,
And there he drank and smiled;
And over in Gaëta Bay,
Ascanio - ashore
A fool! - must wed a widow gay
Who'd buried three or four.

At Naples, woe! poor Ned they hanged -
Hemp neckcloth he disdained -

Victor-Marie Hugo

Farewell, farewell! Her vans the vessel tries

Farewell, farewell! Her vans the vessel tries,
His iron might the potent engine plies:
Haste, winged words, and ere tis useless, tell,
Farewell, farewell, yet once again, farewell.

The docks, the streets, the houses past us fly,
Without a strain the great ship marches by;
Ye fleeting banks take up the words we tell,
And say for us yet once again, farewell.

The waters widen, on without a strain
The strong ship moves upon the open main;
She knows the seas, she hears the true waves swell,
She seems to say farewell, again farewell.

The billows whiten and the deep seas heave;
Fly once again, sweet words, to her I leave,
With winds that blow return, and seas that swell,
Farewell, farewell, say once again, farewell.

Fresh in my face and rippl...

Arthur Hugh Clough

Songs of the Fleet - Farewell

    Mother, with unbowed head
        Hear thou across the sea
    The farewell of the dead,
        The dead who died for thee.
    Greet them again with tender words and grave,
    For, saving thee, themselves they could not save.

    To keep the house unharmed
        Their fathers built so fair,
    Deeming endurance armed
        Better than brute despair,
    They found the secret of the word that saith,
    "Service is sweet, for all true life is death."

    So greet thou well thy dead
        Across the homeless sea,
    And be thou comforted
        Because they died for thee.
    Far off they served, but now their deed is done
    For evermore their life and thine are one.

Henry John Newbolt

A Sea Song.

Old Albion sat on a crag of late.
And sang out - "Ahoy! ahoy!
Long, life to the captain, good luck to the mate.
And this to my sailor boy!
    Come over, come home,
    Through the salt sea foam,
    My sailor, my sailor boy.

"Here's a crown to be given away, I ween,
A crown for my sailor's head,
And all for the worth of a widowed queen,
And the love of the noble dead;
    And the fear and fame
    Of the island's name
Where my boy was born and bred.

"Content thee, content thee, let it alone,
Thou marked for a choice so rare;
Though treaties be treaties, never a throne
Was proffered for cause as fair.
    Yet come to me home,
    Through the salt sea foam,
    For the Greek must ask elsewhere.

"'Tis a pity, my sailor,...

Jean Ingelow

An Islesman's Farewell.

Ah! must we part, my darling?
O let the days be few,
Until your dear returning
To one who loves but you!
Where'er your ship be sailing,
Think on your own love true;
The back of the wave to you, darling,
The back of the wave to you!

The witch, who oft at midnight
Above Ben Caillach flew,
Told me she dreamed no danger
Athwart your vessel drew;
For you she said the breezes
Aye strong and fairly blew;
The back of the wave to you, darling,
The back of the wave to you!

Ah! waiting here, and trembling
When dark the water's hue,
I'll long for the dear pleasure
That in your glance I knew;
And pray to Him who never
Can lose you from His view.
The back of the wave to you, darling,
The back of the wave to you.

John Campbell