Cicely Fox Smith

(1 February 1882 – 8 April 1954 / Lymm, Cheshire)

Home For Christmas — Old Style - Poem by Cicely Fox Smith

'I'm goin' to get 'er 'ome
For Christmas,' said the skipper
O' the clipper

Flyin' Foam
. . .

Built on the Clyde, an' built to go,
By Bell an' Burnie for Keith an' Co.,
She was a beauty, she was a mover,
An' our ol' man was the man to shove 'er!

We cleared the 'Eads the fust of October:
It was 'All 'ands aft,' afore we was sober,
An' 'Boys,' says 'e, 'on board this packet
You'll 'ave to jump or else stand the racket . . . '

''Cos I mean to get 'er 'ome
For Christmas,' said the skipper
O' the clipper

Flyin' Foam

Off o' Cape Stiff it blowed a teaser -
A reg'lar snorter, a beast of a freezer -
It blowed bad, an' it blowed bitter,
With lumps o' seas that froze when they 'it 'er,

With hail as stung like shot in our faces,
An' ice like iron on sheets an' braces:
But 'ailin' an' freezin' an' snowin' an' blowin',
'E stuck to 'is topsails, 'e kept 'er goin' -

'Cos I mean to get 'er 'ome
For Christmas, did the skipper
O' the clipper

Flyin' Foam

She took 'er Trade an' she run from the South
With everything set an' a bone in 'er mouth,
She snored along with 'er lee rail under,
An' 'er main to'gal'ntsail bust like thunder!

It was breezing up an' the sea a smother,
But we laid aloft an' we bent another -
For 'e says, says 'e, 'By the Great Lord Harry,
She must darn well drag what she can't darn carry,'

'But I'm goin' to git 'er 'ome
For Christmas,' said the skipper
O' the clipper

Flyin' Foam

We 'and't 'ardly struck the Channel
When a fog come down as thick as flannel:
You couldn't see, an' you couldn't 'ear,
An' all you could do was stand an' steer.

An' where we was, well, there warn't no knowin',
But we blowed the 'orn an' we kep' on goin',
Till all of a suddent the fog got thinner,
An' there was the Foreland, as I'm a sinner . . .

An 'e'd got 'er 'ome
For Christmas, 'ad the skipper
O' the clipper

Flyin' Foam

Comments about Home For Christmas — Old Style by Cicely Fox Smith

  • (11/14/2017 12:00:00 PM)

    I'm curious about some of the terms.
    I was struggling to find to'gal'ntsail. wilki has this though
    On a square rigged sailing vessel, a topgallant sail (topgallant alone pronounced t'gallant, topgallant sail pronounced t'garns'l) is the square-rigged sail or sails immediately above the topsail or topsails. It is also known as a gallant or garrant sail.
    I could understand the image of snorting along but snored along sounds strange to me.
    (Report) Reply

    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
Read all 1 comments »

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Poem Submitted: Monday, August 30, 2010

[Report Error]