Mcandrew's Hymn Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AABBCBDDEFGGBBBHHCCB BIBJKCCLLMMHHBBNNCCO ODDDDPPBBBBJJDDDDBBP BBBCCBBBBBBDDQQQCCCJ JJMMBFEERR BBBBBBBBKKPPPPBBPPDD KSBTQQSKCCBBDDCU| Lord Thou hast made this world below the shadow of a dream | A |
| An' taught by time I tak' it so exceptin' always Steam | A |
| From coupler flange to spindle guide I see Thy Hand O God | B |
| Predestination in the stride o' yon connectin' rod | B |
| John Calvin might ha' forged the same enorrmous certain slow | C |
| Ay wrought it in the furnace flame my quot Institutio quot | B |
| I cannot get my sleep to night old bones are hard to please | D |
| I'll stand the middle watch up here alone wi' God an' these | D |
| My engines after ninety days o' race an' rack an' strain | E |
| Through all the seas of all Thy world slam bangin' home again | F |
| Slam bang too much they knock a wee the crosshead gibs are loose | G |
| But thirty thousand mile o' sea has gied them fair excuse | G |
| Fine clear an' dark a full draught breeze wi' Ushant out o' sight | B |
| An' Ferguson relievin' Hay Old girl ye'll walk to night | B |
| His wife's at Plymouth Seventy | B |
| One Two Three since he began | H |
| Three turns for Mistress Ferguson and who's to blame the man | H |
| There's none at any port for me by drivin' fast or slow | C |
| Since Elsie Campbell went to Thee Lord thirty years ago | C |
| The year the Sarah Sands was burned Oh roads we used to tread | B |
| Fra' Maryhill to Pollokshaws fra' Govan to Parkhead | B |
| Not but they're ceevil on the Board Ye'll hear Sir Kenneth say | I |
| quot Good morrn M'Andrew Back again An' how's your bilge to day quot | B |
| Miscallin' technicalities but handin' me my chair | J |
| To drink Madeira wi' three Earls the auld Fleet Engineer | K |
| That started as a boiler whelp when steam and he were low | C |
| I mind the time we used to serve a broken pipe wi' tow | C |
| Ten pound was all the pressure then Eh Eh a man wad drive | L |
| An' here our workin' gauges give one hunder fifty five | L |
| We're creepin' on wi' each new rig less weight an' larger power | M |
| There'll be the loco boiler next an' thirty knots an hour | M |
| Thirty an' more What I ha' seen since ocean steam began | H |
| Leaves me no doot for the machine but what about the man | H |
| The man that counts wi' all his runs one million mile o' sea | B |
| Four time the span from earth to moon How far O Lord from Thee | B |
| That wast beside him night an' day Ye mind my first typhoon | N |
| It scoughed the skipper on his way to jock wi' the saloon | N |
| Three feet were on the stokehold floor just slappin' to an' fro | C |
| An' cast me on a furnace door I have the marks to show | C |
| Marks I ha' marks o' more than burns deep in my soul an' black | O |
| An' times like this when things go smooth my wickudness comes back | O |
| The sins o' four and forty years all up an' down the seas | D |
| Clack an' repeat like valves half fed Forgie's our trespasses | D |
| Nights when I'd come on deck to mark wi' envy in my gaze | D |
| The couples kittlin' in the dark between the funnel stays | D |
| Years when I raked the ports wi' pride to fill my cup o' wrong | P |
| Judge not O Lord my steps aside at Gay Street in Hong Kong | P |
| Blot out the wastrel hours of mine in sin when I abode | B |
| Jane Harrigan's an' Number Nine The Reddick an' Grant Road | B |
| An' waur than all my crownin' sin rank blasphemy an' wild | B |
| I was not four and twenty then Ye wadna judge a child | B |
| I'd seen the Tropics first that run new fruit new smells new air | J |
| How could I tell blind fou wi' sun the Deil was lurkin' there | J |
| By day like playhouse scenes the shore slid past our sleepy eyes | D |
| By night those soft lasceevious stars leered from those velvet skies | D |
| In port we used no cargo steam I'd daunder down the streets | D |
| An ijjit grinnin' in a dream for shells an' parrakeets | D |
| An' walkin' sticks o' carved bamboo an' blowfish stuffed an' dried | B |
| Fillin' my bunk wi' rubbishry the Chief put overside | B |
| Till off Sambawa Head Ye mind I heard a land breeze ca' | P |
| Milk warm wi' breath o' spice an' bloom quot M'Andrew come awa' quot | B |
| Firm clear an' low no haste no hate the ghostly whisper went | B |
| Just statin' eevidential facts beyon' all argument | B |
| quot Your mither's God's a graspin' deil the shadow o' yoursel' | C |
| Got out o' books by meenisters clean daft on Heaven an' Hell | C |
| They mak' Him in the Broomielaw o' Glasgie cold an' dirt | B |
| A jealous pridefu' fetich lad that's only strong to hurt | B |
| Ye'll not go back to Him again an' kiss His red hot rod | B |
| But come wi' Us quot Now who were They quot an' know the Leevin' God | B |
| That does not kipper souls for sport or break a life in jest | B |
| But swells the ripenin' cocoanuts an' ripes the woman's breast quot | B |
| An' there it stopped cut off no more that quiet certain voice | D |
| For me six months o' twenty four to leave or take at choice | D |
| 'Twas on me like a thunderclap it racked me through an' through | Q |
| Temptation past the show o' speech unnameable an' new | Q |
| The Sin against the Holy Ghost An' under all our screw | Q |
| That storm blew by but left behind her anchor shiftin' swell | C |
| Thou knowest all my heart an' mind Thou knowest Lord I fell | C |
| Third on the Mary Gloster then and first that night in Hell | C |
| Yet was Thy hand beneath my head about my feet Thy care | J |
| Fra' Deli clear to Torres Strait the trial o' despair | J |
| But when we touched the Barrier Reef Thy answer to my prayer | J |
| We dared not run that sea by night but lay an' held our fire | M |
| An' I was drowsin' on the hatch sick sick wi' doubt an' tire | M |
| quot Better the sight of eyes that see than wanderin' o' desire quot | B |
| Ye mind that word Clear as our gongs again an' once again | F |
| When rippin' down through coral trash ran out our moorin' chain | E |
| An' by Thy Grace I had the Light to see my duty plain | E |
| Light on the engine room no more bright as our carbons burn | R |
| I've lost it since a thousand times but never past return | R |
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| Obsairve Per annum we'll have here two thousand souls aboard | B |
| Think not I dare to justify myself before the Lord | B |
| But average fifteen hunder souls safe borne fra' port to port | B |
| I am o' service to my kind Ye wadna blame the thought | B |
| Maybe they steam from grace to wrath to sin by folly led | B |
| It isna mine to judge their path their lives are on my head | B |
| Mine at the last when all is done it all comes back to me | B |
| The fault that leaves six thousand ton a log upon the sea | B |
| We'll tak' one stretch three weeks an' odd by any road ye steer | K |
| Fra' Cape Town east to Wellington ye need an engineer | K |
| Fail there ye've time to weld your shaft ay eat it ere ye're spoke | P |
| Or make Kerguelen under sail three jiggers burned wi' smoke | P |
| An' home again the Rio run it's no child's play to go | P |
| Steamin' to bell for fourteen days o' snow an' floe an' blow | P |
| The bergs like kelpies overside that girn an' turn an' shift | B |
| Whaur grindin' like the Mills o' God goes by the big South drift | B |
| Hail snow an' ice that praise the Lord I've met them at their work | P |
| An' wished we had anither route or they anither kirk | P |
| Yon's strain hard strain o' head an' hand for though Thy Power brings | D |
| All skill to naught Ye'll understand a man must think o' things | D |
| Then at the last we'll get to port an' hoist their baggage clear | K |
| The passengers wi' gloves an' canes an' this is what I'll hear | S |
| quot Well thank ye for a pleasant voyage The tender's comin' now quot | B |
| While I go testin' follower bolts an' watch the skipper bow | T |
| They've words for every one but me shake hands wi' half the crew | Q |
| Except the dour Scots engineer the man they never knew | Q |
| An' yet I like the wark for all we've dam' few pickin's here | S |
| No pension an' the most we earn's four hunder pound a year | K |
| Better myself abroad Maybe I'd sooner starve than sail | C |
| Wi' such as call a snifter rod ross French for nightingale | C |
| Commeesion on my stores Some do but I can not afford | B |
| To lie like stewards wi' patty pans I'm older than the Board | B |
| A bonus on the coal I save Ou ay the Scots are close | D |
| But when I grudge the strength Ye gave I'll grudge their food to those | D |
| There's bricks that I might recommend an' clink the fire bars cruel | C |
| No Welsh Wangarti at the wor | U |
Rudyard Kipling
(1)
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