The Cruise of the Catalpa
A Poem
9781465639165
281 pages
Library of Alexandria
Overview
It was on Easter Monday, in ’Seventy-six, In Freemantle the jailers were all in a fix, From Fauntleroy, down to Amen-timbertoe, There was racing and chasing and bother, you know,For the Fenians had sliddered right off in a row; But what’s that to any one, whether or no? Oh! Wilson and Cranston and Hogan are gone, With Darragh and Hassett and staunch Harrington;For Collins and Johnston have opened the ball, And to join in the dancing, out step Jones and Hall,And they tripped to a tune that was far from being slow; But what’s that to any one, whether or no? Cops, warders and soldiers are running a race And the mounted policemen prepare to give chase; In the pensioner’s barracks the trumpet did blow, And old Finnerty’s bugle was purple, I know; But the boys know their road, and are bound for to go; So what’s that to any one, whether or no? There are two trotting teams on the Rockingham road, From the gloom of a prison each bearing its load, And full hearts are beating with freedom and joy, As they sweep ’round the sand hills and through the Blackboy. With the sunlight of Hope every face is aglow; But what’s that to any one, whether or no? On, on through the bush, as they ride to the beach, In vain for his captives may Robinson screech, And Harvest may swagger to cover his fears As they drag out the guns of the Perth volunteers; But the Fenians are off; they may puff, pant and blow; For what’s that to any one, whether or no? Near Rockingham jetty, upon the white sand, With revolvers and rifles the Fenians stand— Gay, fearless and free, stepping into their boat; Shove her off! then out oars! on the waters afloat! Now a right saucy Yankee tar takes them in tow; And what’s that to any one, whether or no? Now Silvee and Toby and Mopsa give way, For the good ship Catalpa lies out in the bay. “Come down, you big Louis,” the captain did roar, “Now what do you say, men? pull off from the shore;You Lombar, keep stroke; pull, men, cheerily, oh!” And what’s that to any one, whether or no? Now past Garden Island, and clear off the Sound, Make sail on the boat, pass the liquor around;Shift your seats, trim the boat, as she bends to the breeze, And light as a sea-gull skims over the seas; There’s a rest from the oar, while the fair breezes blow; And what’s that to any one, whether or no? At six in the evening we sighted the bark, And we steered on her track till the evening grew dark, When a squall coming down, with its venomous blast, Almost swamped our good boat, as it tore out her mast; So all night on the billows we tossed to and fro; But what’s that to any one, whether or no? Next morning at seven we raised her again, Topsails, mainsails and hull—we were nearing her plain, When we spied the Georgette, steaming out of the Sound, And we knew by her course for the bark she was bound; So we hauled down our sail, then lay to and lay low; But what’s that to any one, whether or no?
