In Cornwall and Across the Sea With Poems Written in Devonshire. By Douglas B. W. Sladen |
 |
| I. |
ST IVES, CORNWALL. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
|
|
|
 | In Cornwall and Across the Sea |  |
26
ST IVES, CORNWALL.
The day that I wandered down to St Ives
I saw no man with a number of wives,
Or cats or anything else of the kind
Of which the old legend put me in mind,
I saw no man with a number of wives,
Or cats or anything else of the kind
Of which the old legend put me in mind,
But only the town with its quaint old streets
And the quaint old quay with its fisher fleets
And sunburnt fishermen watching the tide
Or drying their nets on the Island side,
And the quaint old quay with its fisher fleets
And sunburnt fishermen watching the tide
Or drying their nets on the Island side,
And fisherwomen hard-worked but gay
For fine it was nor the boats away,
And sturdy children some swimming about
Some bare on the sand when the tide was out.
For fine it was nor the boats away,
And sturdy children some swimming about
Some bare on the sand when the tide was out.
27
When the tide was out there was gleaming sand
Stretching leagues away upon either hand,
Dividing the dark blue sea and the shore
With its crown of boulder and heathy moor.
Stretching leagues away upon either hand,
Dividing the dark blue sea and the shore
With its crown of boulder and heathy moor.
There's little to laugh at about St Ives:
Its story's a serious story of lives
Nightly in risk on the pitiless sea
To earn the fisher's inadequate fee,
Its story's a serious story of lives
Nightly in risk on the pitiless sea
To earn the fisher's inadequate fee,
A story of lifeboat, rocket and belt,
A story of woe not talked of but felt
When a lugger puts out to sea and goes
The way which all know of but no one knows.
A story of woe not talked of but felt
When a lugger puts out to sea and goes
The way which all know of but no one knows.
Good-bye, little town by the Severn sea
With your sands and old inns and your busy quay,
And your carven church and your antique streets,
And your sun-burned heroes of fisher fleets!
With your sands and old inns and your busy quay,
And your carven church and your antique streets,
And your sun-burned heroes of fisher fleets!
28
Good-bye! when I read the name of St Ives
The wives I shall think of are fishermen's wives,
Rearing their sons to be heroes at home
While the wild wind lashes the western foam
The wives I shall think of are fishermen's wives,
Rearing their sons to be heroes at home
While the wild wind lashes the western foam
Round the boats, in which brothers and husbands sail,
To win their bread from the teeth of the gale,
Or to carry a chance of life to wrecks
At the risk of their own stout hearts and necks.
To win their bread from the teeth of the gale,
Or to carry a chance of life to wrecks
At the risk of their own stout hearts and necks.
| In Cornwall and Across the Sea | |