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    Ballads of Lost Haven A Book of the Sea
    Ballads of Lost Haven A Book of the Sea
    Ballads of Lost Haven A Book of the Sea
    Ebook107 pages47 minutes

    Ballads of Lost Haven A Book of the Sea

    By Bliss Carman

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    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherArchive Classics
    Release dateNov 15, 2013

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      Book preview

      Ballads of Lost Haven A Book of the Sea - Bliss Carman

      The Project Gutenberg EBook of Ballads of Lost Haven, by Bliss Carman

      This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with

      almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or

      re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included

      with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org

      Title: Ballads of Lost Haven

      A Book of the Sea

      Author: Bliss Carman

      Release Date: April 27, 2006 [EBook #18268]

      Language: English

      *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BALLADS OF LOST HAVEN ***

      Produced by Thierry Alberto, Martin Pettit and the Online

      Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This

      file was produced from images generously made available

      by the Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions

      (www.canadiana.org))

      Ballads of Lost Haven

      A Book of the Sea

      By Bliss Carman

      Author of Low Tide on Grand Pré, Behind the Arras, Songs from Vagabondia, &c.

      Lamson, Wolffe and Company

      Boston, New York and London

      MDCCCXCVII

      Copyright, 1897

      by Lamson, Wolffe and Company

      All rights reserved

      Norwood Press

      J. S. Cushing & Co.—Berwick & Smith

      Norwood Mass. U.S.A.

      Contents

      A Son of the Sea

      The Gravedigger

      The Yule Guest

      The Marring of Malyn

      The Nancy's Pride

      Arnold, Master of the Scud

      The Ships of St. John

      The King of Ys

      The Kelpie Riders

      Noons of Poppy

      Legends of Lost Haven

      The Shadow Boatswain

      The Master of The Isles

      The Last Watch

      Outbound

      A SON OF THE SEA

      I was born for deep-sea faring;

      I was bred to put to sea;

      Stories of my father's daring

      Filled me at my mother's knee.

      I was sired among the surges;

      I was cubbed beside the foam;

      All my heart is in its verges,

      And the sea wind is my home.

      All my boyhood, from far vernal

      Bourns of being, came to me

      Dream-like, plangent, and eternal

      Memories of the plunging sea.

      THE GRAVEDIGGER

      Oh, the shambling sea is a sexton old,

      And well his work is done.

      With an equal grave for lord and knave,

      He buries them every one.

      Then hoy and rip, with a rolling hip,

      He makes for the nearest shore;

      And God, who sent him a thousand ship,

      Will send him a thousand more;

      But some he'll save for a bleaching grave,

      And shoulder them in to shore,—

      Shoulder them in, shoulder them in,

      Shoulder them in to shore.

      Oh, the ships of Greece and the ships of Tyre

      Went out, and where are they?

      In the port they made, they are delayed

      With the ships of yesterday.

      He followed the ships of England far,

      As the ships of long ago;

      And the ships of France they led him a dance,

      But he laid them all arow.

      Oh, a loafing, idle lubber to him

      Is the sexton of the town;

      For sure and swift, with a guiding lift,

      He shovels the dead men down.

      But though he delves so fierce and grim,

      His honest graves are wide,

      As well they know who sleep below

      The dredge of the deepest tide.

      Oh, he works with a rollicking stave at lip,

      And loud is the chorus skirled;

      With the burly rote of his rumbling throat

      He batters it down the world.

      He learned it once in his father's house,

      Where the ballads of eld were sung;

      And merry enough is the burden rough,

      But no man knows the tongue.

      Oh, fair, they say, was his bride to see,

      And wilful she must have been,

      That she could bide at his gruesome side

      When the first red dawn came in.

      And sweet, they say, is her kiss to those

      She greets to his border home;

      And softer than sleep her hand's first sweep

      That beckons, and they come.

      Oh, crooked is he, but strong enough

      To handle the tallest mast;

      From the royal barque to the slaver dark,

      He buries them all at last.

      Then hoy and rip, with a rolling hip,

      He makes for the nearest shore;

      And God, who sent him a

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