Last of the Riverfolk

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nic blandford

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Song maker, I'm tickled that thou'st sought me
Nipper's the name, last of the tribe
Last of the long line of riverfolk
Hereabouts alive

I daily use my wits upon the water
Now I'll leave my nets and talk with thee
Just a quiet man in a ten foot clinker keel
Just happy to be me

Centuries of toil and the savvy of the craft
Legends and rich river lore
Will all soon fade when I put from the aft
To leave this homely shore

With one slow eye and two arms that are strong
My good eye on where the salmon run
In the eddies and the whorls of the tides
The passing of the fish on Severnside

Oh, Sabrina, I hear your song
Oh, Sabrina, guide me safely home
Oh, Sabrina

Severn flood - more like the sea
Your lifetimes of flow have claimed all of me
You reach to the edges of the world

From Beachley loam to Austcliff is my run
And sometimes on up the Wye for a spin
Oh, that's where I've always have my fun
My basket's always full when I heave her in

Yes, I've netted, hooked and putchered a few
Of the salmon, which never yield without a fight
Oh, brazen fish, so brave, so bright, so true
For your gift I pray a prayer both day and night

Oh, Sabrina, I hear your song
Oh, Sabrina, guide me safely home
Oh, Sabrina

Now, a fisher thinks as a fisher sees
He banks on the shoals, rides the tides till late
Primes his lines, plants nets and smells the breeze
And bets on the shifting sands of fate

Songmaker, thank 'ee for heeding my tales
Good folk, bless you all, sing as one
For the past is soon forgotten, memory fails
Water, words whispered - then gone

Oh, Sabrina, I hear your song
Oh, Sabrina, guide me safely home
Oh, Sabrina

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