Classic Poem

THE OLD SMUGGLER SPEAKS

A L'INGTON Knoll it stands up high,
Guidin' the sailors sailin' by,
Stands up high fer all to see
Cater the marsh and crost the sea.

Al'ington Knoll's a mound a top,
With a dick all round and it's bound to stop,
For them as made it in them old days
Sees to it well that theer it stays,

For that ol' Knoll is watched so well
By drownded men let outen Hell;
They watches well and keeps it whole
For a sailor's mark — the goodly Knoll.

Farmer Finn as farms the ground
Tried to level that goodly mound,
But not a chap from Lydd to Lym'
Thought that job were meant for him.

Finn 'e fetched a chap fro' th' Sheeres,
One o' yer spunky devil-may-keeres,
Giv him a shovel and pick and spade,
Promised him double what we was paid.

He digged till ten, and he muddled on
Till he'd digged up a sword and a skillington —
A grit old sword as long as me,
An' grit ol' bones as you could see.

He digged and digged the livelong day,
Till the sun went down in Fairlight Bay;
He digged and digged, and behind his back
The lamps shone out and the marsh went black,

And the sky in the west went black from red,
An' the wood went black — an' the man was dead.
But wheer he'd digged the chark shone white
Out to sea like Calais light.

Al'ington Knoll it stands up high,
Guidin' the sailors sailin' by,
Stands up high for all to see
Cater the marsh and crost the sea.