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 | Poems by Jean Ingelow |  |
‘Then he rose up and took the other one,
And all our men reached out their hungry arms,
And cried out, “Throw her, throw her!” and he did
He threw her right against the parson's breast,
And all at once a sea broke over them,
And they that saw it from the shore have said
It struck the wreck and piecemeal scattered it,
Just as a woman might the lump of salt
That 'twixt her hands into the kneading-pan
She breaks and crumbles on her rising bread.
And all our men reached out their hungry arms,
And cried out, “Throw her, throw her!” and he did
He threw her right against the parson's breast,
And all at once a sea broke over them,
And they that saw it from the shore have said
It struck the wreck and piecemeal scattered it,
Just as a woman might the lump of salt
That 'twixt her hands into the kneading-pan
She breaks and crumbles on her rising bread.
| Poems by Jean Ingelow | |