The Knitting Song
Sailor lad, on the sodden ground, Sailor lad on the seas,
Can't you hear a little clicketty sound Stealing across on the breeze?
It's the knitting-needles singing their song As they twine the khaki or blue,
Thousands and thousands and thousands strong, Tommy and Jack, for you. Click -- click -- click, How they dart and flick, Flashing in the firelight to and fro! Now for purl and plain, Round and round again, Knitting love and luck in every row.
The busy hands may be rough or white, The fingers gouty or slim,
The careful eyes may be youthfully bright, Or they may be weary and dim,
Lady and workgirl, young and old,
They've all got one end in view,
Knitting warm comforts against the cold, Tommy and Jack, for you.
Knitting away by the midnight oil, Knitting when day begins,
Lads, in the stress of your splendid toil, Can't you hear the song of the pins?
Clicketty, click -- through the wind and the foam It's telling the boys over
That every "woolly" that comes from home Brings a smile and a hope and a prayer. Click -- click -- click, How they dart and flick, Flashing in the firelight to and fro! Now for purl and plain, Round and round again, Knitting love and luck in every row.
Jessie Pope
Other author posts
The Niggers
When Sibyl sits upon the beach With Kate and Madeline, Dick, Tom and Jack, the swain of each, Loll gloomily between,
War Girls
'There's the girl who clips your ticket for the train, And the girl who speeds the lift from floor to floor, There's the girl who does a milk-round in the rain, And the girl who calls for orders at your door
Play The Game
Twenty-Two stalwarts in stripes and shorts Kicking a ball along, Set in a square of leather-lunged sports Twenty-two thousand strong, Some of them shabby, some of them spruce, Savagely clamorous all,
The Call of the Congo
I go as a rule At the coming of Yule, To a place where the sunshine's obtrusive ; At Hydros I'm found, Where dyspeptics abound,
