Verse > Anthologies > T. H. Ward, ed. > The English Poets > Vol. IV. Wordsworth to Rossetti
Thomas Humphry Ward, ed.  The English Poets.  1880–1918.
Vol. IV. The Nineteenth Century: Wordsworth to Rossetti
Fisherman’s Song
By Joanna Baillie (1762–1851)
NO fish stir in our heaving net,
And the sky is dark and the night is wet;
And we must ply the lusty oar,
For the tide is ebbing from the shore;
And sad are they whose faggots burn,        5
So kindly stored for our return.
Our boat is small, and the tempest raves,
And nought is heard but the lashing waves
And the sullen roar of the angry sea
And the wild winds piping drearily;        10
Yet sea and tempest rise in vain,
We ’ll bless our blazing hearths again.
Push bravely, mates! Our guiding star
Now from its towerlet streameth far,
And now along the nearing strand,        15
See, swiftly moves yon flaming brand:
Before the midnight watch be past
We ’ll quaff our bowl and mock the blast.

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