Those were the high days, the jolly days of yore,
the dim and distant past that will come again no more.
With our sweethearts and companions we would while away the hours,
laughing, sleeping, teasing ‘neath the woodlands florid bowers.
Sometimes we’d take to singing or climb the highest trees,
but often lying quiet we would simply take our ease.
Perhaps we’d roam through cornfields or paddle in the brooks,
laughing and romancing ,exchanging tender looks.
We’d often stay out very late and wear away the night
with talk of all our hopes and dreams until the dawn’s first light,
then off to try and catch some sleep ‘fore church on Sunday morn,
to the little village church which now stands so forlorn.
The bells would ring  to summon us ‘oer the county wide
oh come to church good people come, there’s room enough inside!
We’d fill up all the choir stalls, our voices strong and clear,
Sunday after Sunday for many a happy year.
It seemed that things would never change,
(they’d stay just as before), but then we heard the bugle call
And went  to join the war.
Leaving sweethearts far behind and families and homes,
we went across to France to die in friendless foreign zones.
The old church bells are silent now the steeple fallen down,
no more their cheerful ringing will peal the county round.
Those trusty souls I knew so well, are silent now just like the bell,
their broken bodies buried deep, far away in France’s keep.
In ranks they take eternal rest, of English youth, the very best!
Some comrades lie ‘neath poppy’s tall, while I alone am left of all
Those smiling lads from dale and hill, the farm, the village shop and mill,
I missed them then, I miss them still…

On a south sea Isle by a sandy shore
She bathes in the surf for evermore
And sings.

She sings of enchanted blue lagoons
Of cocoanut groves under the moon
And things,

Of things a sailor most desires
Like a pretty girl and a glowing fire
And love.

And later when she tires of you
She’ll send you off o’er the blue
To roam.

But you’ll never escape the siren call
Of the dusky maid that so enthralled
Your senses.

So sailors all beware the guile
Of the dusky maid with the winsome smile
Who bathes in the surf by a sandy shore
Whose sole intent it is to lure the sailor.

For if you fall beneath her spell
She’ll break your heart and who can tell
Of the consequences.

Do you heed the call of the sea my son, do you hear it’s voice?
No sir, only a murmuring whence the silver fish rejoice.
Do you mark the sound of the sea as the tide o’er flows the strand?
A little I do I think sir, for it speaks of a foreign land.
Does the sound of thunder affright you, or the flash so vivid and bright?
No sir it does not affright me, it fills me with wondrous delight.
What think you the life of a sailor? could you leave those you love on the strand and stride off over the shingle to face dangers in far away lands?
Plainly that would be hard sir, and my heart would be broken in two,
but I think I should just have to bear it, for that is what sailors must do!

He did not shrink from duties call
for King and country gave his all,
when in the battle he did fall
and was buried in the deep.
He’s been there now for many a year
he cannot see, he does not hear,
safe in the ocean’s keep.
Even the gulls cry overhead
does not disturb his watery bed
he is so very very dead,
down in his watery sleep.
He has no child to count the cost,
no tombstone with a carven cross.
Only his widow feels the loss
of her sailor boy in blue.
A flowery wreath on a windswept sea
on his anniversary,
he’s nought but a distant memory
to those who held him dear.

Oh fender on the ocean brine
could it be that you are mine,
why did you slip and run from me?
had you longings to be free?
Return at once and I will vow
to place you on the very bow,
where you will be before all others
of your smaller rubbery brothers.
Return to me and cease your lark
or you may end up in a shark.!

I’ll tell of a dream wherein I saw
A mermaid on a rocky shore,
who sang to me with words so sweet,
she swept me from my faltering feet
and beckoned me with glistening arm
to join her in the sea so warm,
to frolic in the tumbling surf
in wholesome and good natured mirth,
until at last she led me deep
unto the land where fishes sleep,
where Neptune on a throne of power
adorned withal in green sea flowers
and hung about with pearls and gold,
(of such are countless stories told),
he bade me sit, and served me Mullet,
which flapped and wriggled in my gullet
and made me feel a little queasy,
for eating live fish isn’t easy,
then Neptune, mermaid, fish and all
departed me amidst a squall,
and I awoke midst ocean billows
to find myself overwhelmed by pillows.