CHRISTMAS AT SEA

Evening Star, Issue 17541, 22 December 1920, Page 4

CHRISTMAS AT SEA

tholkeTh a nd° Mn hard ’ they Cut The s!£ a H sl a d f ide ’ where a “ TIl0 of! n t d o^a a n ° r ’' WeSter ’ blowin 8 squally Cl iwng a s n a.lee° Uting the Tb %reak r of da C y; SUrf a - roarin S th 9 But ’twas only with the peep of light we saw how ill we lay. We tumbled every hand on deck instantcr. with a shout, • And we gave her the maintcps’l, and stood by to go about. All day we tacked and tacked between the soutii Head and the North: All day wo hauled the frozen sheets, and got no further forth; All day, as cold as charity, in bitter pain and dread, For very life and nature we tacked from head to head. We gave the South a wider berth, for there the tide-race roared; But every tack we made we brought the rvorth Head close aboard; So’s wo saw the cliffs and houses, and the breakers running high,. And the coastguard in his garden, with his glass against his eye. The frost was on tbj village roofs as whits as ocean foam; The good red fires were burning bright in every ’longshore home; The windows sparkled clear, and the chimneys volleyed out; And I vow wo sniffed the victuals as the vessel went about. The bells upon the church were rung with a mighty jovial sheer; For it’s just that I should tell you how (of all days in the year) This day of our adversity was blessed Christmas morn, And the house above tbe coastguard’s was the house where 1 was bom. O well I saw the pleasant room, the pleasant faces there, My mother’s silver spectacles, my father’s silver hair; And well I saw the firelight, like a flight of homely elves, Go dancing round the china plates that stand upon the shelves. And well I knew tbe talk they had, the talk that was of me, Of the shadow on the household and the eon that went to sea; And 0 the wicked fool I seemed, in every kind of way, To be here and hauling frozen ropes on blessed Christmas Day. They lit the high sea-light, and the dark bdgan to fall. ‘‘All hands to loose topgallant sails,” I heard the captain call. “By the Lord, she’ll never stand it,” our first mate, Jackson, cried. . . . “It’s the one way or the other, Mr Jackson,” he replied. She staggered to her bearings, bnt the sails were new and good, And the ship smelt up to windward just as though she understood; As the winter’s day was ending, in the entry of the night, We cleared the weary headland, and passed below the light. And they heaved a mighty breath, every soul on board but me, As they saw her nose again pointing handsome out to sea; But all that I could think of, in the darkness and the cold, Was just that I was leaving home and my folks were growing old. Robert Louis Stevenson.