Poem by John Masefield

Sea-Change

‘Goneys an’ gullies an’ all o’ the birds o’ the sea,
  They ain’t no birds, not really,’ said Billy the Dane.
Not mollies, nor gullies, nor goneys at all,’ said he,
  ‘But simply the sperrits of mariners livin’ again.

‘Them birds goin’ fishin’ is nothin’ but souls o’ the drowned,
  Souls o’ the drowned an’ the kicked as are never no more;
An’ that there haughty old albatross cruisin’ around,
  Belike he’s Admiral Nelson or Admiral Noah.

An’ merry’s the life they are living. They settle and dip,
  They fishes, they never stands watches, they waggle their wings;
When a ship comes by, they fly to look at the ship
  To see how the nowaday mariners manages things.

‘When freezing aloft in a snorter, I tell you I wish--
  (Though maybe it ain’t like a Christian)--I wish I could be
A haughty old copper-bound albatross dipping for fish
  And coming the proud over all o’ the birds o’ the sea.’

1. Fever Ship
2. Bill
3. Hell’s Pavement
4. Harbour-Bar
5. The Turn of the Tide

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