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A poem by Alfred Noyes |
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Bacchus And The Pirates |
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Title: Bacchus And The Pirates Author: Alfred Noyes [More Titles by Noyes] Half a hundred terrible pig-tails, pirates famous in song and story, Hoisting the old black flag once more, in a palmy harbour of Caribbee, "Farewell" we waved to our brown-skinned lasses, and chorussing out to the billows of glory, Billows a-glitter with rum and gold, we followed the sunset over the sea.
Our capstan song we sung: Half a hundred broad-sheet pirates When the world was young!
Heaved and coloured our barque's black nose where the Lascar sang to a twinkling star, And the tangled bow-sprit plunged and dipped its point in the west's wild red and yellow, Till the curved white moon crept out astern like a naked knife from a blue cymar.
Our capstan song we sung: Half a hundred terrible pirates When the world was young!
Taught us to balance the plank ye walk, your little plank-bridge to Kingdom Come: Half a score had sailed with Flint, and a dozen or so the devil had brought us Back from the pit where Blackbeard lay, in Beelzebub's bosom, a-screech for rum.
Our capstan song we sung: Half a hundred piping pirates When the world was young!
His own right hand having gone to a shark with a taste for skippers on pirate-trips), There was Silver himself, with his cruel crutch, and the blind man Pew, with a phiz like a blister, Gouged and white and dreadfully dried in the reek of a thousand burning ships.
Our capstan song we sung: Half a hundred cut-throat pirates When the world was young!
But green and gold look well when spliced! We'd trimmed 'em up wi' some fine fresh lace) Bravely over the seas we danced to the horn-pipe tune of a concertina, Cutlasses jetting beneath our skirts and cambric handkerchiefs all in place.
Our capstan song we sung: Half a hundred elegant pirates When the world was young!
An isle of Paradise, fair as a gem, on the sparkling breast of the wine-dark deep, An isle of blossom and yellow sand, and enchanted vines on the purple highlands, Wi' grapes like melons, nay clustering suns, a-sprawl over cliffs in their noonday sleep.
Our capstan song we sung: Half a hundred dream-struck pirates When the world was young!
Creamed, and the rainbow-bubbles clung to his flame-red hair, a white youth lay, Sleeping; and now, as his drowsy grip relaxed, the cup that he squeezed his grog in Slipped from his hand and its purple dregs were mixed with the flames and flakes of spray.
Our capstan song we sung: Half a hundred diffident pirates When the world was young!
His head was pillowed on two great leopards, whose breathing rose and sank with his own; Now a pirate is bold, but the vision was rum and would call! for rum in the best of beholders, And it seemed we had seen Him before, in a dream, with that flame-red hair and that vine-leaf crown.
And softlier now we sung: Half a hundred awe-struck pirates When the world was young!
A man that, in youth being brought up pious, had many a book on his cabin-shelf, Suddenly caught at a comrade's hand with the tearing claws of his cold steel flipper And cried, "Great Thunder and Brimstone, boys, I've hit it at last! 'Tis Bacchus himself."
And never a word we sung: Half a hundred tottering pirates When the world was young!
We stared at him--Bacchus! The sea reeled round like a wine-vat splashing with purple dreams, And the sunset-skies were dashed with blood of the grape as the sun like a new-staved barrel Flooded the tumbling West with wine and spattered the clouds with crimson gleams.
And never a word we sung: Half a hundred staggering pirates When the world was young!
Back he came on his pounding crutch, for all the world like a kangaroo; And we caught the net and up to the Sleeper on hands and knees we all went creeping, Flung it across him and staked it down! 'Twas the best of our dreams and the dream was true.
And loudly now we sung:
When the world was young!
Glittering, beautiful, flushed he lay in the lurching bows of the old black barque, As the sunset died and the white moon dawned, and we saw on the island a star-bright bevy Of naked Bacchanals stealing to watch through the whispering vines in the purple dark!
Our capstan song we sung: Half a hundred innocent pirates When the world was young!
Snared like a wild young red-lipped merman, wilful, petulant, flushed he lay; While Silver and Hook in their big sea-boots and their boat-cloaks guarded and gleefully eyed him, Thinking what Bacchus might do for a seaman, like standing him drinks, as a man might say.
We sailed away and sung: Half a hundred fanciful pirates When the world was young!
O, the pictures that broached the skies and poured their colours across our dreams! O, the thoughts that tapped the sunset, and rolled like a great torchlight procession Down our throats in a glory of glories, a roaring splendour of golden streams!
As we hauled the sheets and sung: Half a hundred infinite pirates When the world was young!
He rose like a flame, with his yellow-eyed pards and his flame-red hair like a windy dawn, And the crew kept back, respectful like, till the leopards advanced with their eyes revolving, Then up the rigging went Silver and Hook, and the rest of us followed with case-knives drawn.
Our cross-tree song we sung: Half a hundred terrified pirates When the world was young!
We'll take you home to a happier isle, our palmy harbour of Caribbee!" And a mighty Vine came straggling up that grew from the depths of the wine-dark sea.
As our cross-tree song we sung: Half a hundred horrified pirates When the world was young!
And bound us writhing like snakes to the spars! Ay, we hacked with our knives at the boughs in vain, And Bacchus laughed loud on the decks below, as ever the tough sprays tightened and thickened, And the blazing hours went by, and we gaped with thirst and our ribs were racked with pain
And we knew not what we sung: Half a hundred lunatic pirates When the world was young!
Bunch upon bunch of gold and purple daubed its bloom on our baked black lips. Clustering grapes, O, bigger than pumpkins, just out of reach they bobbed and dangled Over the vine-entangled sails of that most dumbfounded of pirate ships!
And mocked us where we hung: Half a hundred maniac pirates When the world was young!
When suddenly we were aware of a light such as never a moon or a ship's lamp throws, And a shallop of pearl, like a Nautilus shell, came shimmering up as by magic arisen, With sails: of silk and a glory around it that turned the sea to a rippling rose.
At the song that cruiser sung: Half a hundred goggle-eyed pirates When the world was young!
Over the seas they came and laid their little white hands on the old black barque; And Bacchus he ups and he steps aboard: "Hi, stop!" cries Hook, "you frantic old boozer! Belay, below there, don't you go and leave poor pirates to die in the dark!"
As they all pushed off and sung: Half a hundred ribbonless Bacchanals When the world was young!
High on the poop of rose and pearl, and kisses his hand to us, pleasant as pie! While the Bacchanals danced to their tambourines, and the vine-leaves flew, and Hook just eyed him Once, as a man that was brought up pious, and scornfully hollers, "Well, you ain't shy!"
The wild white Bacchanals flung! Nor it wasn't a sight for respectable pirates When the world was young!
-Nautilus rippled the bloom of a thousand roses, Nay, but the sparkle of fairy sea-nymphs breasting a fairy-like sea of wine, Swimming around it in murmuring thousands, with white arms tossing; till--all that _we_ knows is The light went out, and the night was dark, and the grapes had burst and their juice was--brine!
Were plain wet ropes that clung, Squeezing the light out o' fifty pirates When the world was young!
Cloud upon cloud we watched her tower with her belts and her crowded zones of sail; And an A.B. perched in a white crow's nest, with a brass-rimmed spy-glass quietly spying, As we swallowed the lumps in our choking throats and uttered our last faint feeble hail!
And we thought how coves had swung: All for playing at broad-sheet pirates When the world was young!
We lands on their trim white decks at last and the bo'sun he whistles us good hot grog, And we tries to confess, but there wasn't a soul from the Admiral's self to the gold-laced middy But says, "They're delirious still, poor chaps," and the Cap'n he enters the fact in his log,
In a barrel without a bung-- Half a hundred suffering sea-cooks When the world was young!
Rattled their chains, and on Margate beach we came like a school-treat safe to land; And one of us took to religion at once; and the rest of the crew, tho' their hearts were mournful, Capered about as Christy Minstrels, while Hook conducted the big brass band.
And, O, 'twas a thought that stung! There was none to believe we were broad-sheet pirates When the world was young!
We'll hoist the white cross-bones again in our palmy harbour of Caribbee! We'll wave farewell to our brown-skinned lasses and, chorussing out to the billows of glory, Billows a-glitter with rum and gold, we'll follow the sunset over the sea!
O, sing it as we sung! Half a hundred terrible pirates When the world was young! [The end] GO TO TOP OF SCREEN |