The Watchman

'Watchman, what of the night?'
    'The stars are out in the sky;
And the merry round moon will be rising soon,
    For us to go sailing by.'

'Watchman, what of the night?'
    'The tide flows in from the sea;
There's water to float a little cockboat
    Will carry such fishers as we.'

'Watchman, what of the night?'
    'The night is a fruitful time;
When to many a pair are born children fair,
    To be christened at morning chime.'

1849.

Charles Kingsley

Charles Kingsley was an English writer, historian, and clergyman born on June 12, 1819, in Holne, Devon. He was associated with the Christian Socialist movement and was a friend of prominent figures such as Charles Darwin. Kingsley is best known for his historical novels, including 'Westward Ho!' and 'Hypatia,' as well as his children's book 'The Water-Babies.' His works often explore social issues and aim to contribute to societal reform. Kingsley died on January 23, 1875, in Eversley, Hampshire.

Charles Kingsley

A Lament

Charles Kingsley, Simple Poetry

A Christmas Carol

Charles Kingsley, Simple Poetry

The Tide Rock

Charles Kingsley, Simple Poetry

Down To The Mothers

Charles Kingsley, Simple Poetry

English

Suggested Poems

Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.

The Watchman.

A TRIO.


WATCHMAN.

Past twelve o'clock--past twelve.

Good night, good night, my dearest--
    How fast the moments fly!
'Tis time to part, thou hearest
That hateful watchman's cry.

WATCHMAN.

Past one o'clock--past one.

Yet stay a moment longer--
    Alas! why is it so,
The wish to stay grows stronger,
    The more 'tis time to go?

WATCHMAN.

Past two o'clock--past two.

Now wrap thy cloak about thee--
    The hours must sure go wrong,
For when they're past without thee,
    They're, oh, ten times as long.

WATCHMAN.

Past three o'clock--past three.

Again that dreadful warning!
    Had ever time such flight?
And see the sky, 'tis morning--
    So now...

Thomas Moore

Songs of the Fleet - The Middle Watch

    In a blue dusk the ship astern
        Uplifts her slender spars,
    With golden lights that seem to burn
        Among the silver stars.
    Like fleets along a cloudy shore
        The constellations creep,
    Like planets on the ocean floor
        Our silent course we keep.

            And over the endless plain,
                Out of the night forlorn
            Rises a faint refrain,
                A song of the day to be born--
            Watch, oh watch till ye find again
                Life and the land of morn.

    From a dim West to a dark East
        Our lines unwavering head,
    As if their motion long had ceased
        And Time itself were dead.

    Vainly we watch the deep below,
        Vain...

Henry John Newbolt

The Three Fishers

Three fishers went sailing away to the West,
    Away to the West as the sun went down;
Each thought on the woman who loved him the best,
    And the children stood watching them out of the town;
    For men must work, and women must weep,
    And there's little to earn, and many to keep,
    Though the harbour bar be moaning.

Three wives sat up in the lighthouse tower,
    And they trimmed the lamps as the sun went down;
They looked at the squall, and they looked at the shower,
    And the night-rack came rolling up ragged and brown.
    But men must work, and women must weep,
    Though storms be sudden, and waters deep,
    And the harbour bar be moaning.

Three corpses lay out on the shining sands
    In the morning gleam as the tide went down,
...

Charles Kingsley

Songs Of The Night Watches, - The Morning Watch.

THE COMING IN OF THE "MERMAIDEN."

The moon is bleached as white as wool,
And just dropping under;
Every star is gone but three,
And they hang far asunder, -
There's a sea-ghost all in gray,
A tall shape of wonder!

I am not satisfied with sleep, -
The night is not ended.
But look how the sea-ghost comes,
With wan skirts extended,
Stealing up in this weird hour,
When light and dark are blended.

A vessel! To the old pier end
Her happy course she's keeping;
I heard them name her yesterday:
Some were pale with weeping;
Some with their heart-hunger sighed,
She's in, - and they are sleeping.

O! now with fancied greetings blest,
They comfort their long aching:
The sea of sleep hath borne to them
What would not come...

Jean Ingelow

The Night Bird: A Myth

A floating, a floating
Across the sleeping sea,
All night I heard a singing bird
Upon the topmost tree.

'Oh came you off the isles of Greece,
Or off the banks of Seine;
Or off some tree in forests free,
Which fringe the western main?'

'I came not off the old world
Nor yet from off the new -
But I am one of the birds of God
Which sing the whole night through.'

'Oh sing, and wake the dawning -
Oh whistle for the wind;
The night is long, the current strong,
My boat it lags behind.'

'The current sweeps the old world,
The current sweeps the new;
The wind will blow, the dawn will glow
Ere thou hast sailed them through.'

Eversley, 1848.

Charles Kingsley

Messmates

He gave us all a good-bye cheerily
    At the first dawn of day;
We dropped him down the side full drearily
    When the light died away.
It's a dead dark watch that he's a-keeping there,
And a long, long night that lags a-creeping there,
Where the Trades and the tides roll over him
    And the great ships go by.

He's there alone with green seas rocking him
    For a thousand miles round;
He's there alone with dumb things mocking him,
    And we're homeward bound.
It's a long, lone watch that he's a-keeping there,
And a dead cold night that lags a-creeping there,
While the months and the years roll over him
    And the great ships go by.

I wonder if the tramps come near enough
    As they thrash to and fro,
And the battle-ships' bells rin...

Henry John Newbolt