A Croon on Hennacliff

Thus said the rushing raven,
Unto his hungry mate :
" Ho ! gossip ! for Bude Haven :
There be corpses six or eight.
Cawk ! cawk ! the crew and skipper
Are wallowing in the sea :
So there's a savoury supper
For my old dame and me."

" Cawk ! gaffer ! thou art dreaming,
The shore hath wreckers bold ;
Would rend the yelling seamen,
From the clutching billows' hold.
Cawk ! cawk ! they'd bound for booty
Into the dragon's den :
And shout, for ' death or duty,'
If the prey were drowning men."

Loud laughed the listening surges,
At the guess our grandame gave :
You might call them Boanerges,
From the thunder of their wave.
And mockery followed after
The sea-bird's jeering brood :
That filled the skies with laughter,
From Lundy Light to Bude.

" Cawk ! cawk ! " then said the raven,
" I am fourscore years and ten :
Yet never in Bude Haven
Did I croak for rescued men. —
They will save the Captain's girdle,
And shirt, if shirt there be :
But leave their blood to curdle,
For my old dame and me."

So said the rushing raven
Unto his hungry mate :
" Ho ! gossip ! for Bude Haven :
There be corpses six or eight.
Cawk ! cawk ! the crew and skipper
Are wallowing in the sea :
O what a savoury supper
For my old dame and me."