The speaker treats Sorrow as an old shipmate who has stood watch with him through good times and bad, fair weather and foul. No matter where he goes, he cannot shake that grey, patient presence: it sits beside him in the dull dog watches, follows him through bright foreign cities, and meets him on busy harbour streets. The mood is quietly resigned and haunting rather than angry or dramatic. Sorrow is not a sudden tragedy but a lifelong companion, woven into ordinary moments and even into songs, where its voice sounds like a crying seabird or wind in a shroud. By the end, the speaker still hears that old voice among the sailors, so Sorrow becomes less an enemy than a familiar, melancholy echo from the past—weary, lonely, and strangely tender.
Shipmate Sorrow — Summary
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!