Harbour-Bar
All in the feathered palm-tree tops the bright green parrots screech,The white line of the running surf goes booming down the beach,But I shall never see them, though the land lies close aboard,I’ve shaped the last long silent tack as takes one to the Lord.
Give me the Scripters, Jakey, ’n’ my pipe atween my lips,I’m bound for somewhere south and far beyond the track of ships;I’ve run my rags of colours up and clinched them to the stay,And God the pilot’s come aboard to bring me up the bay.
You’ll mainsail-haul my bits o’ things when Christ has took my soul,’N’ you’ll lay me quiet somewhere at the landward end the Mole,Where I shall hear the steamers’ sterns a-squattering from the heave,And the topsail blocks a-piping when a rope-yarn fouls the sheave.
Give me a sup of lime-juice; Lord, I’m drifting in to port,The landfall lies to windward and the wind comes light and short,And I’m for signing off and out to take my watch below,And--prop a fellow, Jakey--Lord, it’s time for me to go!
Words in this poem
- shall v. i.
- To owe; to be under obligation for. [OE. shal, schal, imp. sholde, scholde, AS. scal, sceal, I am obliged, imp. scolde, sceolde, inf. sculan; akin to OS. skulan, pres. skal, imp. skolda, D. zullen,]
- aboard adv.
- On board; into or within a ship or boat; hence, into or within a railway car. [Pref. a- on, in + board.]
- atween adv.
- Between. Spenser. [See Atwain, and cf. Between.]
- somewhere adv.
- In some place unknown or not specified; in one place or another.
- landward adv.
- Toward the land.
- landfall n.
- A sudden transference of property in land by the death of its owner.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Harbour-Bar 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, Harbour-Bar, in Salt-Water Ballads (1902), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #52761, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/masefield-salt-water/harbour-bar.html, id L12652.
Form and metre
Harbour-Bar is 16 lines in 4 stanzas of 4 lines each. Every stanza rhymes AABB. The metre is iambic heptameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 92%). 98% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 14.1 syllables.
See other poems in iambic heptameter.
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 screechA · beachA · aboardB · lordB
- 2 AABB lipsA · shipsA · stayB · bayB
- 3 AABB soulA · moleA · heaveB · sheaveB
- 4 AABB portA · shortA · belowB · goB
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 heptameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| All in the feathered palm-tree tops the bright green parrots screech, | 14 | ···/˘······/˘· |
| The white line of the running surf goes booming down the beach, | 14 | ·····/˘··/˘··· |
| But I shall never see them, though the land lies close aboard, | 14 | ···/˘·······˘/ |
| I’ve shaped the last long silent tack as takes one to the Lord. | 14 | ·····/˘······· |
| Give me the Scripters, Jakey, ’n’ my pipe atween my lips, | 14 | ··········˘/·· |
| I’m bound for somewhere south and far beyond the track of ships; | 14 | ···/·········· |
| I’ve run my rags of colours up and clinched them to the stay, | 14 | ·····/˘······· |
| And God the pilot’s come aboard to bring me up the bay. | 14 | ···/˘·˘/······ |
| You’ll mainsail-haul my bits o’ things when Christ has took my soul, | 14 | ·/˘··········· |
| ’N’ you’ll lay me quiet somewhere at the landward end the Mole, | 14 | ····//···/˘··· |
| Where I shall hear the steamers’ sterns a-squattering from the heave, | 14 | ·····/˘··/˘··· |
| And the topsail blocks a-piping when a rope-yarn fouls the sheave. | 15 | ··/˘··/˘······· |
| Give me a sup of lime-juice; Lord, I’m drifting in to port, | 14 | ·········/˘··· |
| The landfall lies to windward and the wind comes light and short, | 14 | ·/···/˘······· |
| And I’m for signing off and out to take my watch below, | 14 | ···/˘········· |
| And--prop a fellow, Jakey--Lord, it’s time for me to go! | 14 | ···/˘········· |
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