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On the Raising of the Mary Rose
'Long since I sailed me
I and ‘Great Harry’
Pride of the ragged fleet
When we were merrie,
Heel at the wind, my tars,
Gunports at ready.'
'There sat the Frenchman
Here, our great ships,
Hard on the helm we are
As the port dips,
Long cries of ‘Mary Rose’
Die on their lips.'
'Deep-dredged these centuries
Now wedged on high
Stark, as my timbers
Wide-arc the sky;
Where now ‘Great Harry’,
Where does he lie? '
'Torn from my bitter-rest
Borne to your day,
Wide-eyed and wild is my
Sad disarray;
Tell my ‘Great Harry’ now –
Your world is grey.'
14 October 1982
poem
by
David Lewis Paget
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