Ballads (Masefield, 1903)/Hall Sands

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Hall Sands

[The village of Hall Sands, between Dartmouth and Start Point, in South Devonshire, is imminently threatened by the sea. Its natural breakwater of sand and shingle was removed a. few months ago by a Government contractor, and since its removal the sea has encroached upon the foreshore, and is now undermining some of the houses.

The land on which the village stands is beginning to slip and settle. The sea takes a heavy toll of earth at each high tide. The fishermen are in danger of utter ruin, and the first gale from the south-east is likely to sweep the village from its site.]

The moon is bright on Devon sands,The pale moon brings the tide,The cold green water's greedy handsAre clutching far and wideWhere the brown nets are dried.
Oh! snaky are the salt green wavesThat wash the scattered shells;They come from making sailors' graves ​And tolling sunk ships' bells—But now their tossing swells
Are lipping greedy at the stoneWhich props the scattered town.They cannot leave the rocks alone,They mean to sink and drownThe wretched cabins down.
The beams are creaking, and the wallsAre cracking, while the sea.Lips landward steadily and gallsThose huts of brick and treeWhich men's homes used to be.
Lithe, wicked eddies twist and spinWhere once they dragged the boats.The nimble shrimps are nesting inThe rye-patch—and the throatsOf sea-snails glut the oats.
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It is all falling, slipping swift;The thievish tides intendTo crumble down and set adrift,To eat away, and rend.And steal, and make an end.
Soon, when the wind is setting coldAnd sharp from the south-east,The great salt water running boldWill give the fish a feast,And the town will have ceased,
But that its wretched ruins then—Though sunken utterly—Will show how the brute greed of menHelps feed the greedy sea.
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