"Oh! is it weed, or fish, or floating hair— A tress of golden hair, A drowned maiden's hair Above the nets at sea? Was never salmon yet that shone so fair They rowed her in across the rolling foam, The cruel crawling foam, The cruel hungry foam, To her grave beside the sea: But still the boatmen hear her call the cattle home Across the sands of Dee! Charles Kingsley [1819-1875] THE THREE FISHERS THREE fishers went sailing away to the West, Away to the West as the sun went down; Each thought on the woman who loved him the best, For men must work, and women must weep, Three wives sat up in the lighthouse tower And they trimmed the lamps as the sun went down; They looked at the squall, and they looked at the shower, And the night-rack came rolling up ragged and brown. But men must work, and women must weep, Three corpses lay out on the shining sands In the morning gleam as the tide went down, And good-by to the bar and its moaning. Charles Kingsley [1819-1875] The Northern Star 1575 BALLAD IN the summer even, While yet the dew was hoar, I went plucking purple pansies, Till my love should come to shore. The fishing-lights their dances Were keeping out at sea, And come, I sung, my true love! Come hasten home to me! But the sea, it fell a-moaning, And the white gulls rocked thereon; And the young moon dropped from heaven, And the lights hid one by one. All silently their glances Slipped down the cruel sea, And wait! cried the night and wind and storm,— Wait, till I come to thee! Harriet Prescott Spofford [1835 THE NORTHERN STAR A TYNEMOUTH SHIP THE Northern Star Sailed over the bar Bound to the Baltic Sea; In the morning gray She stretched away:― 'Twas a weary day to me! For many an hour In sleet and shower By the lighthouse rock I stray; And watch till dark For the winged bark Of him that is far away. The castle's bound I wander round, Amidst the grassy graves: Is the north wind drear, And all I see are the waves. The Northern Star Is set afar! Set in the Baltic Sea: And the waves have spread The sandy bed That holds my Love from me. Unknown THE FISHER'S WIDOW THE boats go out and the boats come in Under the wintry sky; And the rain and foam are white in the wind, And the white gulls cry. She sees the sea when the wind is wild Swept by a windy rain; And her heart's a-weary of sea and land As the long days wane. She sees the torn sails fly in the foam, Broad on the sky-line gray; And the boats go out and the boats come in, But there's one away. Arthur Symons [1865 CALLER HERRIN' Wha'll buy my caller herrin'? They're bonny fish and halesome farin'; Wha'll buy my caller herrin', New drawn frae the Forth? When ye were sleepin' on your pillows, Caller Herrin' Darkling as they faced the billows, Buy my caller herrin', New drawn frae the Forth! Wha'll buy my caller herrin'? 1577 They're no brought here without brave darin'; Hauled through wind and rain. Wha'll buy my caller herrin', New drawn frae the Forth? Wha'll buy my caller herrin'? Wha'll buy my caller herrin', When the creel o' herrin' passes, Ladies, clad in silks and laces, Cast their heads, and screw their faces. Caller herrin's no got lightly:- "Wha'li buy my caller herrin', Neebor wives! now tent my tellin': Truth will stand, when a' thing's failin'! Wha'll buy my caller herrin', New drawn frae the Forth? Carolina Nairne [1766-1845] HANNAH BINDING SHOES POOR lone Hannah, Sitting at the window, binding shoes: Sitting, stitching, in a mournful muse. Hannah's at the window, binding shoes. Not a neighbor Passing, nod or answer will refuse "Is there from the fishers any news?" Hannah's at the window, binding shoes. Fair young Hannah, Ben, the sunburnt fisher, gaily wooes; For a willing heart and hand he sues. And the waves are laughing so! Hannah leaves her window and her shoes. May is passing; 'Mid the apple-boughs a pigeon cooes: Hannah shudders, For the mild south-wester mischief brews. Round the rocks of Marblehead, Outward bound, a schooner sped; Silent, lonesome, Hannah's at the window, binding shoes. 'Tis November: Now no tear her wasted cheek bedews, Not a sail returning will she lose, |