Classic and Contemporary Poetry
DEID FOLKS' FERRY, by ROSAMUND MARRIOTT WATSON Poet's Biography First Line: Tis they, of a veritie Last Line: Through the mirk an' the saft sea-mist Alternate Author Name(s): Tomson, Graham R. Subject(s): Ferry Boats | ||||||||
'T IS They, of a veritie -- They are calling thin an' shrill; We maun rise an' put to sea, We maun gi'e the deid their will, We maun ferry them owre the faem, For they draw us as they list; We maun bear the deid folk hame Through the mirk an' the saft sea-mist. "But how can I gang the nicht, When I'm new come hame frae sea? When my heart is sair for the sicht O' my lass that langs for me?" "O your lassie lies asleep, An' sae do your bairnies twa; The cliff-path's stey an' steep, An' the deid folk cry an' ca'." O sea hooly steppit we, For the nicht was mirk an' lown, Wi' never a sign to see, But the voices all aroun'. We laid to the saut sea-shore, An' the boat dipped low i' th' tide, As she micht hae dipped wi' a score, An' our ain three sel's beside. O the boat she settled low, Till her gunwale kissed the faem, An' she didna loup nor row As she bare the deid folk hame; But she aye gaed swift an' licht, An' we naething saw nor wist Wha sailed i' th' boat that nicht Through the mirk an' the saft sea-mist. There was never a sign to see, But a misty shore an' low; Never a word spak' we, But the boat she lichtened slow, An' a cauld sigh stirred my hair, An' a cauld hand touched my wrist, An' my heart sank cauld and sair I' the mirk an' the saft sea-mist. Then the wind raise up wi' a maen, ('T was a waefu' wind, an' weet), Like a deid saul wud wi' pain, Like a bairnie wild wi' freit; But the boat rade swift an' licht, Sae we wan the land fu' sune, An' the shore showed wan an' white By a glint o' the waning mune. We steppit oot owre the sand Where an unco' tide had been, An' Black Donald caught my hand An' coverit up his een: For there, in the wind an' weet, Or ever I saw nor wist, My Jean an' her weans lay cauld at my feet, In the mirk an' the saft sea-mist. An' it's O for my bonny Jean! An' it's O for my bairnies twa, It's O an' O for the watchet een An' the steps that are gane awa' -- Awa' to the Silent Place, Or ever I saw nor wist, Though I wot we twa went face to face Through the mirk an' the saft sea-mist | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ECHO AND THE FERRY by JEAN INGELOW RECUERDO by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY THE BOATMAN by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI LETTER WRITTEN ON A FERRY WHILE CROSSING LONG ISLAND SOUND by ANNE SEXTON CROSSING BROOKLYN FERRY by WALT WHITMAN VILLANELLE OF CITY AND COUNTRY by ZOE AKINS THE OLD FERRYMAN by ANTIPHILUS OF BYZANTIUM THE PENDULUM by JURGIS BALTRUSHAITIS A SONG OF LONDON by ROSAMUND MARRIOTT WATSON |
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