The old mayor climb’d the belfry tower,
The ringers ran by two, by three;
“Pull, if ye never pull’d before;
Good ringers, pull your best,” quoth he.
“Play uppe, play uppe, O Boston bells!
Ply all your changes, all your swells,
Play uppe, ‘The Brides of Enderby.’”
It’s not often that our TV screens showing the astonishing and devastating flooding of Lincolnshire and other counties in England take us back to our school classrooms.
The above stanza starts A High Tide On The Coast of Lincolmshire, by Jean Ingelow, capturing the panic of the populace as the waters rise.
The poem laments the drowning of a girl who was milking cows at the riverside as the waters rose.
Fortunately, nothing of the kind appears to have happened this time.
However…