Cape Horn Gospel—Ii
Jake was a dirty Dago lad, an’ he gave the skipper chin,An’ the skipper up an’ took him a crack with an iron belaying-pinWhich stiffened him out a rusty corp, as pretty as you could wish,An’ then we shovelled him up in a sack an’ dumped him to the fish.That was jest arter we’d got sail on her.
Josey slipped from the tops’l-yard an’ bust his bloody back(Which corned from playing the giddy goat an’ leavin’ go the jack);We lashed his chips in clouts of sail an’ ballasted him with stones,‘The Lord hath taken away,’ we says, an’ we give him to Davy Jones.An’ that was afore we were up with the Line.
Joe were chippin’ a rusty plate a-squattin’ upon the deck,An’ all the watch he had the sun a-singein’ him on the neck,An’ forrard he falls at last, he does, an’ he lets his mallet go,Dead as a nail with a calenture, an’ that was the end of Joe.An’ that was just afore we made the Plate.
All o’ the rest were sailor-men, an’ it come to rain an’ squall,An’ then it was halliards, sheets, an ’tacks ‘clue up, an’ let go all.’We snugged her down an’ hove her to, an’ the old contrairy cussStarted a plate, an’ settled an’ sank, an’ that was the end of us.
We slopped around on coops an’ planks in the cold an’ in the dark,An’ Bill were drowned, an’ Tom were ate by a swine of a cruel shark,An’ a mail-boat reskied Harry an’ I (which comed of pious prayers),Which brings me here a-kickin’ my heels in the port of Buenos Ayres.
I’m bound for home in the ‘Oronook,’ in a suit of looted duds,A D.B.S. a-earnin’ a stake by helpin’ peelin’ spuds,An’ if ever I fetch to Prince’s Stage an’ sets my feet ashore,You bet your hide that there I stay, an’ follers the sea no more.
Words in this poem
- dago n.
- A nickname given to a person of Spanish (or, by extension, Portuguese or Italian) descent. [U. S.] [Cf. Sp. Diego, E. James.]
- skipper n.
- One who, or that which, skips.
- jest n.
- A deed; an action; a gest. [OE. jeste, geste, deed, action, story, tale, OF. geste, LL. gesta, orig., exploits, neut. pl. from L. gestus, p. p. of gerere to bear, carry, accomplish, perfor]
- afore prep.
- Before (in all its senses).
- clue n.
- A ball of thread, yarn, or cord; also, The thread itself. [OE. clewe, clowe, clue, AS. cleowen, cliwen, clywe ball of thread; akin to D. kluwen, OHG. chliwa, chliuwa, G. dim. kleuel, knäuel, and perch. to L. gluma hull,]
- hove v. i.
- To rise; to swell; to heave; to cause to swell.
- harry v. i.
- To make a predatory incursion; to plunder or lay waste.
- duds n.
- Old or inferior clothes; tattered garments. [Scot. dud rag, pl. duds clothing of inferior quality.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Cape Horn Gospel—Ii is in the public domain. This text is taken from Salt-Water Ballads, Project Gutenberg ebook #52761; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: John Masefield, Cape Horn Gospel—Ii, in Salt-Water Ballads (1902), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #52761, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/masefield-salt-water/cape-horn-gospel-ii.html, id L12659.
Form and metre
Cape Horn Gospel—Ii is 27 lines in 6 stanzas. The rhyme scheme is AABB, complete in 3 of its 6 stanzas. The metre is iambic octameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 73%). 87% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 14.8 syllables. 11% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
See other poems in iambic octameter.
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- chinA · pinA · wishB · fishB · her
- 2 AABB- backA · jackA · stonesB · jonesB · line
- 3 AABB- deckA · neckA · goB · joeB · plate
- 4 AABB squallA · allA · cussB · usB
- 5 AABB darkA · sharkA · prayersB · ayresB
- 6 AABB dudsA · spudsA · ashoreB · moreB
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 iambic octameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| Jake was a dirty Dago lad, an’ he gave the skipper chin, | 15 | ···/˘/˘·····/˘· |
| An’ the skipper up an’ took him a crack with an iron belaying-pin | 16 | ··/˘········/··· |
| Which stiffened him out a rusty corp, as pretty as you could wish, | 16 | ·/˘···/˘··/˘···· |
| An’ then we shovelled him up in a sack an’ dumped him to the fish. | 16 | ···/˘··········· |
| That was jest arter we’d got sail on her. | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| Josey slipped from the tops’l-yard an’ bust his bloody back | 14 | /˘·˘·······/˘· |
| (Which corned from playing the giddy goat an’ leavin’ go the jack); | 15 | ···/˘·/˘······· |
| We lashed his chips in clouts of sail an’ ballasted him with stones, | 15 | ·········/˘˘··· |
| ‘The Lord hath taken away,’ we says, an’ we give him to Davy Jones. | 17 | ···/˘˘/·······/˘· |
| An’ that was afore we were up with the Line. | 11 | ···˘/······ |
| Joe were chippin’ a rusty plate a-squattin’ upon the deck, | 15 | ·····/˘········ |
| An’ all the watch he had the sun a-singein’ him on the neck, | 15 | ··············· |
| An’ forrard he falls at last, he does, an’ he lets his mallet go, | 16 | ·············/˘· |
| Dead as a nail with a calenture, an’ that was the end of Joe. | 16 | ······/˘˘······· |
| An’ that was just afore we made the Plate. | 10 | ····˘/···· |
| All o’ the rest were sailor-men, an’ it come to rain an’ squall, | 15 | ·····/˘········ |
| An’ then it was halliards, sheets, an ’tacks ‘clue up, an’ let go all.’ | 15 | ··············· |
| We snugged her down an’ hove her to, an’ the old contrairy cuss | 15 | ··············· |
| Started a plate, an’ settled an’ sank, an’ that was the end of us. | 16 | /˘···/˘········· |
| We slopped around on coops an’ planks in the cold an’ in the dark, | 15 | ··············· |
| An’ Bill were drowned, an’ Tom were ate by a swine of a cruel shark, | 15 | ·············/· |
| An’ a mail-boat reskied Harry an’ I (which comed of pious prayers), | 15 | ·····/˘·····/˘· |
| Which brings me here a-kickin’ my heels in the port of Buenos Ayres. | 16 | ·············/˘· |
| I’m bound for home in the ‘Oronook,’ in a suit of looted duds, | 16 | ·············/˘· |
| A D.B.S. a-earnin’ a stake by helpin’ peelin’ spuds, | 15 | ··············· |
| An’ if ever I fetch to Prince’s Stage an’ sets my feet ashore, | 15 | ··/···/˘·····˘/ |
| You bet your hide that there I stay, an’ follers the sea no more. | 15 | ··············· |
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