William Johnson Cory

(1823 - 1892 / England)

A Poor French Sailor’s Scottish Sweetheart - Poem by William Johnson Cory

I CANNOT forget my Joe,
I bid him be mine in sleep;
But battle and woe have changed him so
There ’s nothing to do but weep.

My mother rebukes me yet,
And I never was meek before;
His jacket is wet, his lip cold set,
He ’ll trouble our home no more.

Oh, breaker of reeds that bend!
Oh, quencher of tow that smokes!
I ’d rather descend to my sailor friend
Than prosper with lofty folks.

I ’m lying beside the gowan,
My Joe in the English bay;
I ’m Annie Rowan, his Annie Rowan,
He called me his Bien-Aimée.

I ’ll hearken to all you quote,
Though I ’d rather be deaf and free;
The little he wrote in the sinking boat
Is Bible and charm for me.

Comments about A Poor French Sailor’s Scottish Sweetheart by William Johnson Cory

There is no comment submitted by members..

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Read poems about / on: friend, mother, sleep, home, change

Poem Submitted: Thursday, January 1, 2004

[Hata Bildir]