All day we fought the tides between the North
Head and the South
All day we hauled the frozen sheets to escape the
Storms wet mouth
All day as cold as charity, in bitter pain and
Dread
For very life and nature we tacked from head
To head
We gave the South a wider berth, for there the
Tide-race roared
But every tack we made we brought the North
Head close aboard
We saw the cliffs and houses and the breakers
Running high
And the coastguard in his garden, his glass
Against his eye
The frost was on the village roofs as white as
Ocean foam
The good red fires were burning bright in every
Long-shore home
The windows sparkled clear and the chimneys
Volleyed out
And I vow we sniffed the victuals as the vessel
Went about
The bells upon the church were rung with a
Mighty jovial cheer
For its just that I should tell you how (of all days
In the year)
This day of our adversity was blessed Christmas
Morn
And the house above the coastguards was the
House where I was born
And well I knew the talk they had, the talk that
Was of me
Of the shadow on the household and the son that
Went to sea
And, oh, the wicked fool I seemed, in every kind
Of way
To be here and hauling frozen ropes on blessed
Christmas Day
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