Oh, it is not in the papers and we cannot always know
Where to find the Silent Service whose address is 'G.P.O.'
And to-day you can't be certain wh ...
A thousand landmarks perish,
A hundred streets grow strange;
With all the dreams they cherish
They go the ways of change;
In a sailormen's restaurant Rotherhithe way,
Where the din of the docksides is loud all the day,
And the breezes come bringing off basin and pond
In Animal House (by which title I call
A dwelling whose true name is not that at all)
There are dogs on the sofas and cats on the chairs;
I'd tramped the whole day long on the weary roads ashore,
I was tired as a dog, and my heart was sick and sore,
Lovely is the white town, and smiling it lies
With little green gardens underneath the blue skies,
Eight bells chimed from the fo'c'sle
Back to the chime from the poop;
Out tumbled the port watch, cursing;
The cock crowed loud from the coop.
Rosemary for remembrance, -
O gentle memories
Of hours whose fragrance is like flowers
In olden pleasaunces!
Far down from the thunder
And rush of the street,
Flow Westbourne and Tyebourne
And Effra and Fleet,
Fraser river's flooding high,
Cold and deep and cruel flowing,
All lonely stand the hills nearby,
And man may drown and no one knowing.