Cicely Fox Smith Poems

Mike's a Jonah, an out-and-outer
As ever signed in a Hebrew spouter;
All the kinds of misfortune trail
After Mike like a comet's tail.
...

'It's a thing I never done,' said Mike,'it's a thing I call queer'
(Scratching the dingy galley Tom under his starboard ear),
...

'You can 'ave your lights o' London, you can keep your great White Way:
They're well enough,' said Murphy, 'when you're out to burn your pay:
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All morning rang the gardens where grew the roses sweet
With sound of drum and bugle, and tramp of marching feet;
...

I

She was spoken off Saint Vincent, outward bound . . .
Some lumber-laden barque from Puget Sound,
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Between the grey hill and the sky
The chill west wind goes wandering by
Where mists upon the moorland lie,
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I will put by my violent days, and the ill deeds that I have wrought,
All wayward sins of a wild heart, all empty joys I sought,
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The high stars grow paler -
Day comes to the sea;
The sky's rim unbroken,
The ship running free, -
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As late I went a-walking by the sea,
I thought I heard men talking, I heard them call to me:
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Old Prickles he lives in the midst of a wood,
Where slugs, snails, and beetles abound for his food,
...