| All day we fought the tides between the North
|
| Head and the South
|
| All day we hauled the frozen sheets to escape the
|
| Storms 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 its 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 coastguards 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 |