Mr Stone

Ballads of sailors on the Spanish Main
With these, and others, he would punish us
Tales of grieving for dead fishermen
As outmoded as ruffle or blunderbuss
Poor Mr Stone – his tortured life
Staring dolefully from the piano
Telling us stories about his his wife
He must have been depressed. I know that now
With a dull ache of melancholy
I remember him, poor Mr Stone
His long face and wounded gentility
The sound of his plangent baritone
Friday music lessons at my school
The sea shanty and Negro spiritual

Note: at my school, weirdly, being forced to sing sea shanties was used as a punishment. This has had a strange effect on me. This was the fishermen song, in an updated version by Joan Baez, who was popular when I was a child