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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=419051" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Fisherman of Wexford</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">THERE is an old tradition sacred held in Wexford town, <br>That says: 'Upon St. Martin's Eve no net shall be let down;<br>No fishermen of Wexford shall, upon that holy day, <br>Set sail or cast a line within the scope of Wexford Bay.' <br>The tongue that framed the order, or the time, no one could tell;<br>And no one ever questioned, but the people kept it well. <br>And never in man's memory was fisher known to leave <br>The little town of Wexford on the good St. Martin's Eve. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Alas! alas for Wexford! once upon that holy day <br>Came a wondrous shoal of herring to the waters of the Bay. <br>The fishers and their families stood out upon the beach, <br>And all day watched with wistful eyes the wealth they might not reach. <br>Such shoal was never seen before, and keen regrets went round— <br>Alas! alas for Wexford! Hark! what is that grating sound? <br>The boats' keels on the shingle! Mothers! wives! ye well may grieve,— <br>The fishermen of Wexford mean to sail on Martin s Eve!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Oh, stay ye!' cried the women wild. 'Stay!' cried the men white-haired;<br>'And dare ye not to do this thing your fathers never dared. <br>No man can thrive who tempts the Lord!' 'Away!' they cried: 'the Lord<br>Ne'er sent a shoal of fish but as a fisherman's reward.' <br>And scoffingly they said, 'To-night our net shall sweep the Bay, <br>And take the Saint who guards it, should he come across our way!'<br>The keels have touched the water, and the crews are in each boat; <br>And on St. Martin's Eve the Wexford fishers are afloat!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The moon is shining coldly on the sea and on the land, <br>On dark faces in the fishing-fleet and pale ones on the strand,<br>As seaward go the daring boats, and heavenward the cries <br>Of kneeling wives and mothers with uplifted hands and eyes.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">' Oh Holy Virgin! be their guard! ' the weeping women cried;<br>The old men, sad and silent, watched the boats cleave through the tide,<br>As past the farthest headland, past the lighthouse, in a line<br>The fishing-fleet went seaward through the phosphor-lighted brine.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh, pray, ye wives and mothers! All your prayers they sorely need<br>To save them from the wrath they've roused by their rebellious greed.<br>Oh! white-haired men and little babes, and weeping sweethearts, pray<br>To God to spare the fishermen to-night in Wexford Bay!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The boats have reached good offing, and, as out the nets are thrown,<br>The hearts ashore are chilled to hear the soughing sea-wind's moan:</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Like to a human heart that loved, and hoped for some return, <br>To find at last but hatred, so the sea-wind seemed to mourn.<br>But ah! the Wexford fishermen! their nets did scarcely sink<br>One inch below the foam, when, lo! the daring boatmen shrink <br>With sudden awe and whitened lips and glaring eyes agape, <br>For breast-high, threatening, from the sea uprose a Human Shape!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Beyond them,—in the moonlight,—hand upraised and awful mien, <br>Waving back and pointing landward, breast-high in the sea 'twas seen. <br>Thrice it waved and thrice it pointed,—then, with clenched hand upraised, <br>The awful shape went down before the fishers as they gazed! <br>Gleaming whitely through the water, fathoms deep they saw its frown,— <br>They saw its white hand clenched above it,—sinking slowly down! <br>And then there was a rushing ' neath the boats, and every soul<br>Was thrilled with greed: they knew it was the seaward-going shoal!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Defying the dread warning, every face was sternly set, <br>And wildly did they ply the oar, and wildly haul the net. <br>But two boats' crews obeyed the sign, —God-fearing men were they,— <br>They cut their lines and left their nets, and homeward sped away; <br>But darkly rising sternward did God's wrath in tempest sweep, <br>And they, of all the fishermen, that night escaped the deep. <br>Oh, wives and mothers, sweethearts, sires! well might ye mourn next day; <br>For seventy fishers' corpses strewed the shores of Wexford Bay!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=John+Boyle+O%27Reilly">John Boyle O'Reilly</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=419051" data-title="The Fisherman of Wexford de John Boyle O'Reilly" data-description="THERE is an old tradition sacred held in Wexford town, 
That says: 'Upon St. Martin's Eve no net shall be let down;
No fishermen of Wexford shall, upon that holy day, 
Set sail or cast a line within the scope of Wexford Bay.' 
The tongue that fram..."></div>
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