Cicely Fox Smith Poems

'Father, I gave my gold and gear,
Cattle and goods full tale,
To save my soul from utter dark:
May this at all avail?'
...

I 'ave a conversation book, I brought it out from 'ome;
It tells the French for knife and fork, an' likewise brush an' comb;
...

There was grief in the land, -
Fear and ill-omen:
The foe was at hand
With his spears and his bowmen.
...

What says the Lizard,
Swinging high his shining spear? . . .
'Pass along, my lady,
I've known, ye many a year!'
...

When the old Cutty Sark goes to sea again,
Crowding on her flying kites once more,
With the Duster at the peak flying free again,
...

Long after the shadow of war is fled
And the last battle is fought
Men will remember the Little Ships
And the great things they wrought.
...

'A woman's work is never done,
Or so I've heard,' said Dan;
'But if that's true of anyone,
That one's a sailorman.'
...

Where rest the dead for England? . . .
In fields of France afar,
And shell-torn plains of Flanders,
Once loud with England's war.
...

It was before the hour of dawn,
Ere the birds 'gan to sing,
There came to Galahad's chamber
The herald of the King.
...

The regimental jackdaw 'as a bright an' beady eye;
'E sits upon the tent-pole an' 'e winks both bold an' sly:
...