Shipmate Sorrow

I WAS shipmate with Sorrow in a day gone by; We shared wheel and look-out, old Sorrow and I; Good times and bad times, foul weather and fair, The old grey face of him was always there. There was never chanty raised there, never song I heard. But his voice would be in it like a crying bird ; I was dull in the dog watches, when the laugh went free. Because of old Sorrow sitting down by me. I thought I could lose him in the stir and change Of bright, wicked cities, all sunlit and strange ; There came a hand at my elbow and a voice in my ear — It was old patient Sorrow saying: "Lad, I'm here!" And by the bustling harbour, up the busy street. Many a time I see him, many a time I meet The old grey face there of one I used to know — And it's old shipmate Sorrow out of long ago.

And the watch at the halliards they may sing with a will, But the voice I used to hear — oh, I sometimes hear it still. Like a wind in a shroud piping, or a seabird's cry — And it's old Sorrow singing out of times gone by!