KING HENRY VII. AND THE SHIPWRIGHTS

(A. D. 1487)

ARRY, our King in England, from London town is gone,

HA

And comen to Hamull on the Hoke in the

countie of Suthampton.

For there lay 'The Mary of the Tower,' his ship of war so strong,

And he would discover, certaynely, if his shipwrights did him wrong.

He told not none of his setting forth, nor yet where he would go,

(But only my Lord of Arundel), and meanly did he show, In an old jerkin and patched hose that no man might him mark,

With his frieze hood and cloak above, he looked like any clerk.

He was at Hamull on the Hoke about the hour of the

tide,

And saw the 'Mary' haled into dock, the winter to abide, With all her tackle and habiliments which are the King

his own;

But then ran on his false shipwrights and stripped her to the bone.

They heaved the main-mast overboard, that was of a trusty tree,

And they wrote down it was spent and lost by force of weather at sea.

But they sawen it into planks and strakes as far as it

might go,

To maken beds for their own wives and little children also.

There was a knave called Slingawai, he crope beneath the deck,

Crying: 'Good felawes, come and see! The ship is nigh a wreck!

For the storm that took our tall main-mast, it blew so fierce and fell,

Alack! it hath taken the kettles and pans, and this brass pott as well!'

With that he set the pott on his head and hied him up the hatch,

While all the shipwrights ran below to find what they might snatch;

All except Bob Brygandyne and he was a yeoman good, He caught Slingawai round the waist and threw him on to the mud.

'I have taken plank and rope and nail, without the King his leave,

After the custom of Portesmouth, but I will not suffer a

thief.

Nay, never lift up thy hand at me! There's no clean hands in the trade

Steal in measure,' quo' Brygandyne. 'There's measure in all things made!'

KING HENRY VII. AND THE SHIPWRIGHTS

'Gramercy, yeoman!' said our King. "Thy counsel liketh me.'

And he pulled a whistle out of his neck and whistled whistles three.

Then came my Lord of Arundel pricking across the down,

And behind him the Mayor and Burgesses of merry Suthampton town.

They drew the naughty shipwrights up, with the kettles in their hands,

And bound them round the forecastle to wait the King's commands.

But 'Since ye have made your beds,' said the King, ‘ye needs must lie thereon.

For the sake of your wives and little ones-felawes, get you gone!'

When they had beaten Slingawai, out of his own lips, Our King appointed Brygandyne to be Clerk of all his ships.

'Nay, never lift up thy hands to me-there's no clean hands in the trade.

But steal in measure,' said Harry our King. 'There's measure in all things made!'

God speed the 'Mary of the Tower,' the 'Sovereign' and Grace Dieu,'

The 'Sweepstakes' and the 'Mary Fortune,' and the 'Henry of Bristol' too!

All tall ships that sail on the sea, or in our harbours

stand,

That they may keep measure with Harry our King and

peace in Engeland!

THE SONG OF THE MACHINES

WR

E were taken from the ore-bed and the mine,
We were melted in the furnace and the pit-
We were cast and wrought and hammered
to design,

We were cut and filed and tooled and gauged to fit. Some water, coal, and oil is all we ask,

And a thousandth of an inch to give us play, And now if you will set us to our task,

We will serve you four-and-twenty hours a day!

We can pull and haul and push and lift and drive,
We can print and plough and weave and heat and
light,

We can run and jump and swim and fly and dive,
We can see and hear and count and read and write!

Would you call a friend from half across the world?

If you'll let us have his name and town and state, You shall see and hear your crackling question hurled Across the arch of heaven while you wait.

Has he answered? Does he need you at his side?
You can start this very evening if you choose,

And take the Western Ocean in the stride

Of thirty thousand horses and some screws!

THE SONG OF THE MACHINES

The boat-express is waiting your command!
You will find the 'Mauretania' at the quay,
Till her captain turns the lever 'neath his hand,
And the monstrous nine-decked city goes to sea.

Do you wish to make the mountains bare their head
And lay their new-cut forests at your feet?
Do you want to turn a river in its bed,

And plant a barren wilderness with wheat?
Shall we pipe aloft and bring you water down

From the never-failing cisterns of the Snows,
To work the mills and tramways in your town,
And irrigate your orchards as it flows?

It is easy! Give us dynamite and drills!
Watch the iron-shouldered rocks lie down and
quake

As the thirsty desert-level floods and fills,

And the valley we have dammed becomes a lake!

But remember, please, the Law by which we live,
We are not built to comprehend a lie,

We can neither love nor pity nor forgive,

If you make a slip in handling us you die!
We are greater than the Peoples or the Kings—
Be humble, as you crawl beneath our rods!-
Our touch can alter all created things,

We are everything on earth-except The Gods!

Though our smoke may hide the Heavens from
your eyes,

It will vanish and the stars will shine again,
Because, for all our power and weight and size,

We are nothing more than children of your brain!