The Ballad of the “Bolivar”
Seven men from all the world, back to Docks again,Rolling down the Ratcliffe Road drunk and raising Cain:Give the girls another drink 'fore we sign away --We that took the Bolivar out across the Bay!
We put out from Sunderland loaded down with rails;We put back to Sunderland 'cause our cargo shifted;We put out from Sunderland -- met the winter gales --Seven days and seven nights to the Start we drifted.Racketing her rivets loose, smoke-stack white as snow,All the coals adrift adeck, half the rails below,Leaking like a lobster-pot, steering like a dray --Out we took the Bolivar, out across the Bay!
One by one the Lights came up, winked and let us by;Mile by mile we waddled on, coal and fo'c'sle short;Met a blow that laid us down, heard a bulkhead fly;Left the Wolf behind us with a two-foot list to port.Trailing like a wounded duck, working out her soul;Clanging like a smithy-shop after every roll;Just a funnel and a mast lurching through the spray --So we threshed the Bolivar out across the Bay!
'Felt her hog and felt her sag, betted when she'd break;Wondered every time she raced if she'd stand the shock;Heard the seas like drunken men pounding at her strake;Hoped the Lord 'ud keep his thumb on the plummer-block.Banged against the iron decks, bilges choked with coal;Flayed and frozen foot and hand, sick of heart and soul;Last we prayed she'd buck herself into judgment Day --Hi! we cursed the Bolivar knocking round the Bay!
O her nose flung up to sky, groaning to be still --Up and down and back we went, never time for breath;Then the money paid at Lloyd's caught her by the heel,And the stars ran round and round dancin' at our death.Aching for an hour's sleep, dozing off between;'Heard the rotten rivets draw when she took it green;'Watched the compass chase its tail like a cat at play --That was on the Bolivar, south across the Bay.
Once we saw between the squalls, lyin' head to swell --Mad with work and weariness, wishin' they was we --Some damned Liner's lights go by like a long hotel;Cheered her from the Bolivar swampin' in the sea.Then a grayback cleared us out, then the skipper laughed;“Boys, the wheel has gone to Hell -- rig the winches aft!Yoke the kicking rudder-head -- get her under way!”So we steered her, pulley-haul, out across the Bay!
Just a pack o' rotten plates puttied up with tar,In we came, an' time enough, 'cross Bilbao Bar.Overloaded, undermanned, meant to founder, weEuchred God Almighty's storm, bluffed the Eternal Sea!
Seven men from all the world, back to town again,Rollin' down the Ratcliffe Road drunk and raising Cain:Seven men from out of Hell. Ain't the owners gay,'Cause we took the “Bolivar” safe across the Bay?
Words in this poem
- adrift adv.
- Floating at random; in a drifting condition; at the mercy of wind and waves. Also fig. [Pref. a- (for on) + drift.]
- dray n.
- A squirrel's nest.
- bulkhead n.
- A partition in a vessel, to separate apartments on the same deck. [See Bulk part of a building.]
- wondered a.
- Having performed wonders; able to perform wonderful things.
- strake n.
- A streak. Spenser."White strake." Gen. xxx. 37. [See Streak.]
- cursed a.
- Deserving a curse; execrable; hateful; detestable; abominable.
- went n.
- Course; way; path; journey; direction.
- aching a.
- That aches; continuously painful. See Ache.
- damned a.
- Sentenced to punishment in a future state; condemned; consigned to perdition.
- skipper n.
- One who, or that which, skips.
- undermanned a.
- Insufficiently furnished with men; short-handed.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
The Ballad of the “Bolivar” is in the public domain. This text is taken from Verses 1889-1896, Project Gutenberg ebook #323; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Rudyard Kipling, The Ballad of the “Bolivar”, in Verses 1889–1896 (1889–1896), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #323, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/kipling-verses/the-ballad-of-the-bolivar.html, id L16770.
Form and metre
The Ballad of the “Bolivar” is 52 lines in 8 stanzas. The rhyme scheme is ABABCCDD, complete in 4 of its 8 stanzas. The metre is trochaic hexameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 76%). 88% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 11.6 syllables. 2 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending.
See other poems in trochaic hexameter.
Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.
Rhyme words, stanza by stanza
The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.
- 1 AABB againA · cainA · awayB · bayB
- 2 ABABCCDD railsA · shiftedB · galesA · driftedB · snowC · belowC · drayD · bayD
- 3 ABABCCDD byA · shortB · flyA · portB · soulC · rollC · sprayD · bayD
- 4 ABABCCDD breakA · shockB · strakeA · blockB · coalC · soulC · dayD · bayD
- 5 -A-ABBCC still · breathA · heel · deathA · betweenB · greenB · playC · bayC
- 6 ABABCCDD swellA · weB · hotelA · seaB · laughedC · aftC · wayD · bayD
- 7 AABB tarA · barA · weB · seaB
- 8 AABB againA · cainA · gayB · bayB
Scansion, line by line
Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against trochaic hexameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| Seven men from all the world, back to Docks again, | 11 | /········˘/ |
| Rolling down the Ratcliffe Road drunk and raising Cain: | 12 | /˘··/˘···/˘· |
| Give the girls another drink 'fore we sign away -- | 12 | ···˘/˘····˘/ |
| We that took the Bolivar out across the Bay! | 11 | ····/˘·˘/·· |
| We put out from Sunderland loaded down with rails; | 11 | ····/˘/˘··· |
| We put back to Sunderland 'cause our cargo shifted; | 12 | ····/˘·//·/˘ |
| We put out from Sunderland -- met the winter gales -- | 11 | ····/˘··/˘· |
| Seven days and seven nights to the Start we drifted. | 11 | /··/·····/˘ |
| Racketing her rivets loose, smoke-stack white as snow, | 11 | /˘·/˘······ |
| All the coals adrift adeck, half the rails below, | 12 | ···˘/······· |
| Leaking like a lobster-pot, steering like a dray -- | 12 | /˘··/˘·/˘··· |
| Out we took the Bolivar, out across the Bay! | 11 | ····/˘·˘/·· |
| One by one the Lights came up, winked and let us by; | 12 | ············ |
| Mile by mile we waddled on, coal and fo'c'sle short; | 12 | ····/˘······ |
| Met a blow that laid us down, heard a bulkhead fly; | 12 | ·········/·· |
| Left the Wolf behind us with a two-foot list to port. | 13 | ············· |
| Trailing like a wounded duck, working out her soul; | 12 | /˘··/˘·/˘··· |
| Clanging like a smithy-shop after every roll; | 12 | /˘··/˘···/˘· |
| Just a funnel and a mast lurching through the spray -- | 12 | ··/˘···/˘··· |
| So we threshed the Bolivar out across the Bay! | 11 | ····/˘·˘/·· |
| 'Felt her hog and felt her sag, betted when she'd break; | 12 | ·······/˘··· |
| Wondered every time she raced if she'd stand the shock; | 12 | /˘/˘········ |
| Heard the seas like drunken men pounding at her strake; | 12 | ····/˘·/˘··· |
| Hoped the Lord 'ud keep his thumb on the plummer-block. | 12 | ·········/˘· |
| Banged against the iron decks, bilges choked with coal; | 11 | ····/······ |
| Flayed and frozen foot and hand, sick of heart and soul; | 12 | ··/˘········ |
| Last we prayed she'd buck herself into judgment Day -- | 12 | ·····˘/··/˘· |
| Hi! we cursed the Bolivar knocking round the Bay! | 11 | ····/˘/˘··· |
| O her nose flung up to sky, groaning to be still -- | 12 | ·······/˘··· |
| Up and down and back we went, never time for breath; | 11 | ·······/··· |
| Then the money paid at Lloyd's caught her by the heel, | 12 | ··/˘········ |
| And the stars ran round and round dancin' at our death. | 12 | ·······/˘·/· |
| Aching for an hour's sleep, dozing off between; | 11 | /˘··/·/˘··· |
| 'Heard the rotten rivets draw when she took it green; | 12 | ··/˘/˘······ |
| 'Watched the compass chase its tail like a cat at play -- | 12 | ··/˘········ |
| That was on the Bolivar, south across the Bay. | 11 | ····/˘·˘/·· |
| Once we saw between the squalls, lyin' head to swell -- | 11 | ··········· |
| Mad with work and weariness, wishin' they was we -- | 11 | ····/˘····· |
| Some damned Liner's lights go by like a long hotel; | 11 | ··/······˘/ |
| Cheered her from the Bolivar swampin' in the sea. | 11 | ····/˘····· |
| Then a grayback cleared us out, then the skipper laughed; | 12 | ··/˘·····/˘· |
| “Boys, the wheel has gone to Hell -- rig the winches aft! | 12 | ·········/˘· |
| Yoke the kicking rudder-head -- get her under way!” | 12 | ··/˘/˘······ |
| So we steered her, pulley-haul, out across the Bay! | 12 | ····/˘··˘/·· |
| Just a pack o' rotten plates puttied up with tar, | 11 | ····/˘····· |
| In we came, an' time enough, 'cross Bilbao Bar. | 11 | ·····˘/·˘/· |
| Overloaded, undermanned, meant to founder, we | 11 | /˘·˘/˘···/· |
| Euchred God Almighty's storm, bluffed the Eternal Sea! | 13 | /˘·˘/˘···˘/˘· |
| Seven men from all the world, back to town again, | 11 | /········˘/ |
| Rollin' down the Ratcliffe Road drunk and raising Cain: | 12 | /˘··/˘···/˘· |
| Seven men from out of Hell. Ain't the owners gay, | 11 | /·······/˘· |
| 'Cause we took the “Bolivar” safe across the Bay? | 11 | ····/˘·˘/·· |
The reader shows the same poem with its rhymes coloured and a stress row above each line, the notes beside their stanzas, and any word's definition on a tap; the analysis page takes the whole book apart. How every part of this site was made.