The poetical works of Robert Stephen Hawker Edited from the original manuscripts and annotated copies together with a prefatory notice and bibliography by Alfred Wallis |
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A CROON ON HENNACLIFF. |
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 | The poetical works of Robert Stephen Hawker |  |
169
A CROON ON HENNACLIFF.
Thus said the rushing raven,
Unto his hungry mate:
“Ho! gossip! for Bude Haven:
There be corpses six or eight.
Cawk! cawk! the crew and skipper
Are wallowing in the sea:
So there's a savoury supper
For my old dame and me.”
Unto his hungry mate:
“Ho! gossip! for Bude Haven:
There be corpses six or eight.
Cawk! cawk! the crew and skipper
Are wallowing in the sea:
So there's a savoury supper
For my old dame and me.”
“Cawk! gaffer! thou art dreaming,
The shore hath wreckers bold;
Would rend the yelling seamen,
From the clutching billows' hold.
Cawk! cawk! they'd bound for booty
Into the dragon's den:
And shout, for ‘death or duty,’
If the prey were drowning men.”
The shore hath wreckers bold;
Would rend the yelling seamen,
From the clutching billows' hold.
Cawk! cawk! they'd bound for booty
Into the dragon's den:
And shout, for ‘death or duty,’
If the prey were drowning men.”
Loud laughed the listening surges,
At the guess our grandame gave:
You might call them Boanerges,
From the thunder of their wave.
And mockery followed after
The sea-bird's jeering brood:
That filled the skies with laughter,
From Lundy Light to Bude.
At the guess our grandame gave:
You might call them Boanerges,
From the thunder of their wave.
And mockery followed after
The sea-bird's jeering brood:
That filled the skies with laughter,
From Lundy Light to Bude.
170
“Cawk! cawk!” then said the raven,
“I am fourscore years and ten:
Yet never in Bude Haven
Did I croak for rescued men.—
They will save the Captain's girdle,
And shirt, if shirt there be:
But leave their blood to curdle,
For my old dame and me.”
“I am fourscore years and ten:
Yet never in Bude Haven
Did I croak for rescued men.—
They will save the Captain's girdle,
And shirt, if shirt there be:
But leave their blood to curdle,
For my old dame and me.”
So said the rushing raven
Unto his hungry mate:
“Ho! gossip! for Bude Haven:
There be corpses six or eight.
Cawk! cawk! the crew and skipper
Are wallowing in the sea:
O what a savoury supper
For my old dame and me.”
Unto his hungry mate:
“Ho! gossip! for Bude Haven:
There be corpses six or eight.
Cawk! cawk! the crew and skipper
Are wallowing in the sea:
O what a savoury supper
For my old dame and me.”
| The poetical works of Robert Stephen Hawker | |