The Magic of the Manin.

New Zealand Illustrated Magazine, Volume VIII, Issue 1, 1 April 1903, Page 67

The Magic of the Manin.

It's pleasant here in summer, in this valley 'mid the hills, When we tread the soft green carpet of the grass; The hum of bees around us, and the tinkle of the rills, The warble of the songbirds as they pass. But the old times, half forgotten, are ever haunting me, As the daybreak comes in sunshine or in rain, It brings with it the longing to be back once more at sea — To hear them raise a chanty once again. As I wander home by twilight, my thoughts will often stray To some dingy, dirty, smoky seaport town ; And then I fall a-dreaming that we're towing down the Bay, And the hands are all a-singing " Sally Brown." The slim spars seem to beckon, and the salt winds call to me With the glamour and the magic of the main ; I know one day they'll claim me for the service of the sea, And I'll help to raise a chanty once again. She is running down the Easting, from Sydney homeward bound. Oh can'b you hear the thundering of the gale ? And can't you see the greybacks that are chivvying her around, And the spindrift coming flying o'er the rail ? They are reefing down the tops'ls. They wish that they were me, With my cottage, and my garden, and my grain ; But would that I were with them, back once more upon the sea, And singing " Way down Rio '*• once again. D.R.