Geographical Knowledge

(A Memory Of Christiana C-)     Where Blackmoor was, the road that led      To Bath, she could not show,     Nor point the sky that overspread      Towns ten miles off or so.     But that Calcutta stood this way,      Cape Horn there figured fell,     That here was Boston, here Bombay,      She could declare full well.     Less known to her the track athwart      Froom Mead or Yell'ham Wood     Than how to make some Austral port      In seas of surly mood.     She saw the glint of Guinea's shore      Behind the plum-tree nigh,     Heard old unruly Biscay's roar      In the weir's purl hard by . . .     "My son's a sailor, and he knows      All seas and many lands,     And when he's home he points and shows      Each country where it stands.     "He's now just there - by Gib's high rock -      And when he gets, you see,     To Portsmouth here, behind the clock,      Then he'll come back to me!"