Attested just a month agone,
And passed for fit and sound—
It's shallow here for flat-fish, m'm,
The boat's well-nigh aground.
"I'll throw your line out—that'll do!
Aye, fights on sea are grave!
There ain't no Red Cross people there
To lift you off the wave!
There ain't no 'cover' you can take,
No places to lie down!
You got to go—wi' red-hot shells
Just helping you to drown!
"It minds me of a night we men
Had got the life-boat out.
They'd 'phoned us up! And off we pulled
With many a cheer and shout!
We rowed her hard up to the wind,
And clear the moonlight shone—
But when we reached—you see, just there—
Both ship and crew were gone!
"We cruised around for half an hour!
Ah, m'm, our hearts was sore!
We'd looked to throw the line to them,
And bring 'em safe to shore!
Aye! these blue waves ha' swallowed up
More finer men than me!
But we've been always fisher-folk,
And we can't fear the sea!
