Fine rock a-pooling coast
This starfish on the toast
The men in the crabbing boats they cry
Far across the harbor
And 'round the sandy cove
The shepherd with his pipe and sheep he drove
Big cloud tumbling high
The amazing flying sky
How the gulls are pillaging the town
Fan faring daffodilly
Trumpetingly small
All along the bathing hut wall
Far across the empty beach
The tide has left this world
Old men in tweed find study there
Holding whelks and periwinkles
Tingling in his hand
Little does he know they hold him too
Fine rock pooling coast
This starfish on the coast
The men in the crabbing boat they cry....
