Kilmeny (A Song of the Trawlers)
Dark,
dark,
lay
the
drifters,
against
the
red
west,
As
they
shot
their
long
meshes
of
steel
overside;
And
the
oily
green
waters
were
rocking
to
rest
When
Kilmeny
went
out,
at
the
turn
of
the
tide.
And
nobody
knew
where
that
lassie
would
roam,
For
the
magic
that
called
her
was
tapping
unseen.
It
was
well
nigh
a
week
ere
Kilmeny
came
home,
And
nobody
knew
hwere
Kilmeny
had
been.
She'd
a
gun
at
her
bow
that
was
Newcastle's
best,
And
a
gun
at
her
stern
that
was
fresh
from
the
Clyde,
And
a
secret
her
skipper
had
never
confessed,
Not
even
at
dawn,
to
his
newly
wed
bride;
And
a
wireless
that
whispered
above
like
a
gnome,
The
laughter
of
London,
the
boasts
of
Berlin.
O,
it
may
have
been
mermaids
that
lured
her
from
home,
But
nobody
knew
where
Kilmeny
had
been.
It
was
dark
when
Kilmeny
came
home
from
her
quest,
With
her
bridge
dabbled
red
where
her
skipper
had
died;
But
she
moved
like
a
bride
with
a
rose
at
her
breast;
And
"Well
done,Kilmeny!"
the
admiral
cried.
Now
at
sixty-four
fathom
a
conger
may
come,
And
nose
at
the
bones
of
a
drowned
submarine;
But
late
in
the
evening
Kilmeny
came
home,
And
nobody
knew
where
Kilmeny
had
been.
There's
a
wandering
shadow
that
stares
at
the
foam,
Though
they
sing
all
night
to
old
England,
their
queen,
Late,
late
in
the
evening
Kilmeny
came
home,
And
nobody
knew
where
Kilmeny
had
been.
