Cicely Fox Smith

1 February 1882 – 8 April 1954 / Lymm, Cheshire

Sacramento

'Frisco City's grand and gay
(Sacramento, Sacramento!)
And the roaring night's as bright as day
And many ships go, small and great,
In and out by the Golden Gate,
(And away O! Sacramento!)

Who was it called across the night?
(Sacramento, Sacramento!)
What was it flashed so keen and bright?
Who is it drives down 'Frisco tide
With a six-inch blade deep in his side?
(And away O! Sacramento!)

O don't you see Blue Peter flying?
(Sacramento, Sacramento!)
O don't you hear the good wind crying?
O don't you hear the capstan chorus
And smell the open sea before us?
(And away O! Sacramento!)

We'll miss you, running easting down
(Sacramento, Sacramento!)
With a following wind from 'Frisco town;
We'll miss you beating off Cape Horn,
One man less at the pumps forlorn
(And away O! Sacramento!)

No more time to spend on grieving
(Sacramento, Sacramento!)
All because o' the man we're leaving:
The salt tides drive his drowned bones
In and out o' the Farallones
(And away O! Sacramento!)
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