Smells are surer than sounds or sights To make your heart-strings crack, They start those awful voices o' nights That whisper, "Old man, come back!" That must be why the big things pass...
Look, you have cast out Love! What Gods are these You bid me please? The Three in One, the One in Three? Not so! To my own Gods I go. It may be they shall give me greater ease...
If you've ever stole a pheasant-egg be'ind the keeper's back, If you've ever snigged the washin' from the line, If you've ever crammed a gander in your bloomin' 'aversack,...
I met my mates in the morning (and oh, but I am old!) Where roaring on the ledges the summer ground-swell rolled; I heard them lift the chorus that dropped the breakers' song,...
By the old Moulmein Pagoda, lookin' eastward to the sea, There's a Burma girl a-settin', and I know she thinks o' me; For the wind is in the palm-trees, and the temple-bells they say:...
Lord, Thou hast made this world below the shadow of a dream, An', taught by time, I tak' it so, exceptin' always Steam. From coupler-flange to spindle-guide I see Thy Hand, O God,...
'Less you want your toes trod of you'd better get back at once, For the bullocks are walking two by two, The byles are walking two by two, And the elephants bring the guns. Ho! Yuss!...
You call yourself a man, For all you used to swear, An' Leave me, as you can, My certain shame to bear? I'ear! You do not care, You done the worst you know. I 'ate you, grinnin' there.......
If you stop to find out what your wages will be And how they will clothe and feed you, Willie, my son, don't you go on the Sea. For the Sea will never need you. ...
Lord, Thou hast made this world below the shadow of a dream, An', taught by time, I tak' it so, exceptin' always Steam. From coupler-flange to spindle-guide I see Thy Hand, O God,...
They shall not return to us, the resolute, the young, The eager and whole-hearted whom we gave: But the men who left them thriftily to die in their own dung, Shall they come with years and honour to the grave?...
Dawn off the Foreland, the young flood making Jumbled and short and steep, Black in the hollows and bright where it's breaking, Awkward water to sweep. "Mines reported in the fairway,...
One moment past our bodies cast No shadow on the plain; Now clear and black they stride our track, And we run home again. In morning-hush, each rock and bush Stands hard, and high, and raw:...