Arch Alfred McKillen’s “The Ballad of the Dead Sailor” is spoken from a strange, lonely valley after death. The speaker is a dead sailor, cut off from the sea and uneasy in his stillness. He wonders where his shipmates went and whether they sailed away without him, and he cannot understand why a dead man’s heart still yearns for company. He asks how he died—in battle or asleep—and whether anyone laughed or wept at the news. He even wonders who washed and dressed his body, thanking whoever tried to care, though that care only deepens his isolation. His heart will not rest, and he still longs for companions even though he can no longer breathe or speak. The closing warning to living shipmates is chilling: appreciate each other now, or risk pining away with the same lonely, restless grief.
The Ballad of the Dead Sailor — Summary
Oh, where are the rest of my shipmates, And why am I not at sea, And what is this lonely valley Where no one is but me?
Have they sailed away without me? Will they ever again return? I never thought when he was dead A sailor’s heart would yearn.
Oh, how did I die? In battle? Or how did I die? Asleep? Were there any who laughed when they heard it? Were any too stunned to weep?
But who dressed me up so neatly? Who brushed and combed my hair? Some fellow just doing his duty Or someone who tried to care?
Whoever it was I thank him, But what have they done to my heart That it will not rest like a lonesome guest In this world where they’ve set me apart?
Must I still call out for companions And want them again at my side, Though breath is forbidden me ever As the longing I want to confide?
O you who are shipmates together, Look well at each other today, Or you’ll lie deep as I in your anguish, And pine your dead heart away.