HARBOUR LIGHTS.
               ( Boscatle.)

Pasties  ‘n’ Cream,
And  Witches  when,
Flew,
Taking Fright,
Beside the Rising,
River Ran,
Rushing,
Atlantic Swell,
Streams,
Of torrents,
In Valleys known,
Whilst Old Hawker Prayed,
From Heaven’s above,
Not a live was lost,
To this Old Fishing  Town,
Of Pleasant Cornish Folk.