Christmas At Sea

All day we fought the tides between
the North Head and the South,
All day we hauled the frozen sheets
to scape the storm’s wet mouth,
All day as cold as charity,
in bitter pain and dread,
For very life and nature
we tacked from head to head.

We gave the South a wider berth,
for there the tide-race roared;
But every tack we made we brought
the North Head close aboard:
We saw the cliffs and houses and
the breakers running high,
And the coastguard in his garden,
his glass against his eye.

The frost was on the village roofs
as white as ocean foam;
The good red fires were burning bright
in every ’long-shore home;
The windows sparkled clear
and the chimneys volleyed out;
And I vow we sniffed the victuals
as the vessel went about.

The bells upon the church were rung
with a mighty jovial cheer;
For it’s just that I should tell you how
(of all days in the year)
This day of our adversity
was blessed Christmas morn,
And the house above the coastguard’s
was the house where I was born.

And well I knew the talk they had,
the talk that was of me,
Of the shadow on the household
and the son that went to sea;
And, oh, the wicked fool I seemed,
in every kind of way,
To be here and hauling frozen ropes
on blessed Christmas Day.