Tribute to john masefield



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CONWAY POEMS AND VERSE
INDEX
Title Author

TRIBUTE TO JOHN MASEFIELD

THE NEW FIGUREHEAD John Masefield

THE "CONWAY" CENTENARY John Masefield

THE CONWAY GULLS John Masefield

"BIOGRAPHY" John Masefield

SEA FEVER John Masefield

THE EMIGRANT John Masefield

CARGOES John Masefield

I SAW HER HERE John Masefield

PAY John Masefield

POSTED John Masefield

THE CONWAY'S WORD TO A NEWCOMER John Masefield

"FOR THE SAILORS" John Masefield

"OLD CONWAYS" OF THE WAR Anon:

A "CONWAY" LAMENT W.J.Metcalfe

"CONWAY" through the ALPHABET “ROMMEL"

THE SEQUEL S.C.Ouser

SUBMARINES S.C.Ouser

H.M.S.CONWAY S.C.Ouser

"ADEN" Percy Flage

BRAVE NEW WORLD Percy Flage

”A GEOGRAPHY CLASS” N.Rose

TO "CONWAY" CADETS By a Parent

THE FIRST CUCKOO THIS YEAR NOSPHAM

ABSENT SCHOOL FRIEND G.L.O.Davies

"FAREWELL CONWAY” Nautical Mag:

"OVER THE SEA AND FAR AWAY" "A. NEEDLE"

"BLACK JACK" KIWI!

THE CALL Anon:

A "CONWAY" WINTER MORNING "BORDEAUX"

MON OLOGYOU A.W.Kinghorn

LAMENT - on the DECLINE OF SMOKING Anon:

"CONWAY” D.A.S.

THE "CONWAY" (First CONWAY SONG) Anon:

BE THYSELF AND TRUE Thomas W.Heanley

THE OCEAN LINER - "THIS IS YOUR LIFE” Thomas W.Heanley

RED, WHITE AND BLUE Thomas W.Heanley

CONWAYS, AHOY Thomas W.Heanley

"CARRY ON" (THE CONWAY SONG) Cecil Roberts

HER MAJESTY'S SUSPECTOR NAYDOOT

OH MR PREEN Anon:

A TALE OF JACK AND JO Stephen Copeland

THOUGHTS (with apologies to the WESTERN BROTHERS) "KEWBEE"

ON MOVING TO PLAS NEWYDD Anon:

R.I.P.D. A.Stride

TOTAL LOSS F.D.

ROVING SAILORD. Tilson

"THE WRECK OF THE SEAMEW" N.Anley

ALL AT SEA or the B.B.C of Seafaring G.Drake

THE DESERT CITY David R.Williams

PLUNDER AT THE PANAMA ISTHMUS B.Radley and P.J.K.Aynsley

"GOING HOME” M.G.Wood

AN ODE TO "BOSSY" PHELPS E.R.Maltby

GOING TO SEA IN '93 S.S.Richardson

AERONAUTICS Anon:

"THE SAIL” Anon:

SERVICE Helen Edom

A TIP" S.C.Robson

THE ROYAL ROCK HOTEL Anon:

A "CONWAY" YARN Michael Hook

"KEEPING IN TOUCH" Neil Hulse

"THRENODY" on the CONWAY NEEDLE

HOMILY Anon:

THE DEATH OF A SHIP L.Green

THE CONWAY BELL Dora Kennedy

"HULLABALOOBALAY” Anon:

LA PENSION LA PEPA (Spanish Poem) M.W.Bloy

IN MEMORY OF THE MEMBERS OF THE MUSTARD CLUB Anon:

"THE CONWAY” Anne Elizabeth Siddall.



JOHN MASEFIELD, Poet Laureate, O.M., D.Litt., LL.D., Litt.D.
On the 12th June 1967, John Masefield, the best known and probably the best loved of all Old Conways, slipped his cable just before his eighty ninth birthday, born 1st June 1878 at Ledbury, in Herefordshire, the son of a solicitor, he was left an orphan while still a boy, and with the other Masefield childern he lived with an aunt. John Masefield, like Marryat and Conrad and unnamed thousands of other adventurous souls, went to sea, where a youth rich in vigour and high spirits is no more out of place than an millionaire's son at Eton. He joined the "Conway" in 1891 learning the science of merchant navigation before joining his first ship in 1894. His affection for the 'old ship' and the sea may be seen from both in his life and in his writings.

John Masefield became Poet Laureate in May, 1930, in succession to Dr.Robert Bridges, there was naturally a re-discovery of John Masefield and his work. A generation that had known him mainly by half-a-dozen or so exultant lyrics of nautical life and by less than that number of wonderfully energetic narrative poems, written in a colloquial manner suddenly found out that John Masefield as well as being everybody's poet was a poet's poet, with all the moods and manners of verse up his sleeve. To pick up his "Collected Poems" is to pick up the work of four or more wonderfully diverse writers. There is the Kiplingesque John Masefield who, in "Salt Water Ballads," wrote:


Not the ruler for me, but the ranker, the tramp of the road.

The slave with the sack on his shoulders pricked on with the goad,

The man with too weighty a burden, too weary a load...

Theirs be the music, the colour, the glory, the gold;

Mine be a handful of ashes, a mouthful of mould.

Of the maimed, of the halt and the blind in the rain and the cold--

Of these shall my songs be fashioned, my tales be told.
Then there is the Yeatsian John Masefield who , in "Ballads and Poems," gave us the verse:
I think of the friends who are dead, who were dear long ago in the past,

Beautiful friends who are dead, though I know that death cannot last;

Friends with the beautiful eyes that the dust has defiled.

Beautiful souls who were gentle when I was a child.


And there is the Elizabethan John Masefield who wrote in "Good Friday":

The towers bent like moss

Under the fiery figures from the sky.

Horses were in the air, there came a cry.

Jesus was calling God: it struck us dumb.

One said "He is calling God. Wait. Will God come?

Wait!" And we listened in the glare. O Sir.

He was God's Son, that man, that minster.

For as he called, fire tore the sky in two.

The sick earth shook and tossed the cross askew.

The earthquake was like thunder, the earth's bones

Broke, the graves opened, there were falling stones.


And there is also what might be called the Masefieldian John Masefield who in "The Everlasting Mercy" uttered lines:
Si's wife come in and sipped and sipped

(As women will) till she was pipped.

And Si hit Dicky Twot a clouter

Because he put his arm about her.


And when we have added up all the forms that go to make this most protean of poets we have still left unnoticed John Masefield, the romantic novelist, critic of literature and historian of the sea. To his grief, however, he had been forced to abandon the sea as a

profession -- like Nelson, he was constantly prostrated by sea-sickness. It was not, however, in his professional capacity as

a poet and author that John Masefield showed his love for his old wooden mother. "Conway" owes more to him than it gave him, for all his life he remembered his years training and his book, New Chum, published just after the Second World War, is an accurate if fictional picture of life onboard as it was in the last century. His two editions of The Conway - first written in 1933 and the

second twenty years later--detailed life onboard as remembered by many a latter day Old Conway. From 1930 to 1934 he was President of the "Conway" Club; he wrote many poems especially for "Conway," perhaps the two best known being the one he wrote in 1938 on the occasion of the Masting of the new Figurehead, and the other written to commemorate the Conway Centenary in 1959 which has been carved on the lintel of the Main Entrance of the new "Conway" shore establishment at Plas Newydd.





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