THE SAILORS
rolled along the littered dockAnd met two ancient sailorsWho told of harder, wetter daysOn small and dirty whalers.Then one of the salts asked the other oneIf he knew aught of afterlifeAnd the other growled in his deep bass voiceAnd let his words run rife.“Have ye ever stood on a heavin’ deck,And watched the white caps race.And heard the riggin’ whine and moanAnd spring sure after brace.Have ye ever watched the scuppers roll,Hard under and alee?Then ye know what hell is!“Have ye ever, hoisted, stiff with ice,A mainsul, cold and white,And broke yer knuckles and yer nailsFixin’ the aft truck light?And damn near cried with theSeering pain chasing over ye?Then ye know what hell is.“Have ye ever stood the midnight dog,And fought a writhin’ wheel?And called aloft the starboard watchT’ keep water on her keel?Have ye ever heard the lightning crash,And take away the main?Then ye know what hell is.“But then, I ask, have ye heard,An evening curlew’s cry,And felt a gracious tropic rainAnd heard the south wind sigh?And have ye seen a yellow moon,Ease up into the sky?Then ye know what heaven is.“And have ye heard with yer own ears,A siren’s pleading song?And had a foreign maiden, holdThat horny hand o’er long?And sipped the lotus of the south,Where labor can’t belong?Then ye know what heaven is.”And then he stopped and noticed meAnd looked at me quite sad.“That makes you long for a sailor’s lifeFor ye look none so gladBut never be a sailor-man,Just study yer lessons, lad,And ye’ll know what earth is.”