When I sit on market-days amid the comers and the goers, Oh! full oft I have a vision of the days without alloy, And a ship comes up the river with a jolly gang of towers, And a "pull'e haul'e, pull'e haul'e, yoy! heave, hoy!" There is busy talk around me, all about mine ears it hummeth, But the wooden wharves I look on, and a dancing, heaving buoy, For 'tis tidetime in the river, and she cometh - oh, she cometh! With a "pull'e haul'e, pull'e haul'e, yoy! heave, hoy!" Then I hear the water washing, never golden waves were brighter, And I hear the capstan creaking - 'tis a sound that cannot cloy. Bring her to, to ship her lading, brig or schooner, sloop or lighter, With a "pull'e haul'e, pull'e haul'e, yoy! heave, hoy!" Will ye step aboard, my dearest? for the high seas lie before us. So I sailed adown the river in those days without alloy. We are launched! But when, I wonder, shall a sweeter sound float o'er us Than yon "pull'e haul'e, pull'e haul'e, yoy! heave, hoy!" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MADEIRA FROM THE SEA by SARA TEASDALE THE COASTERS by THOMAS FLEMING DAY SHILLIN' A DAY by RUDYARD KIPLING MONT BLANC; LINES WRITTEN IN THE VALE OF CHAMOUNI by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY A CAROL CLOSING SIXTY-NINE by WALT WHITMAN THE DESERTED LOVER CONSOLETH HIMSELF ... by THOMAS WYATT TO THE RAILROAD MEN by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS THE CHIMNEY-SWEEPER'S COMPLAINT by MARY (CUMBERLAND) ALCOCK PETITION OF A SCHOOLBOY TO HIS FATHER by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |