EMPRESS  OF  INDIA


The Empress of India -
such an elegant boat;
she was the most gracious
cruiser afloat: 
with her clipper prow
 and Edwardian lines,
she stood a symbol -
of much grander times.

But Empress – my Empress,
where have you gone?
Just lying forgotten
down in old Shepperton.

Every summer from 1910,
she’d glide the length of
the River Thames,
carrying women,
 children and men
on daytrips from Richmond
up to far Bourne End.

But Empress – my Empress,
where have you gone?
Just lying forgotten
down in old Shepperton.

The ladies all wore
their pretty frocks,
as they sailed the reaches 
and through the locks;
past ancient churches
and cows as they grazed,
waving to picnickers
on the banks as they lazed.

But Empress – my Empress,
where have you gone?
Just lying forgotten
down  in  old Shepperton.

Then the river law changed,
you could no longer sail;
so, they moored you up
and left you to fail.
Your decks they warped,
your hull sprang a plank;
nobody cared when
into the mud you sank.

But Empress – my Empress,
where have you gone?
Just lying forgotten
down in old Shepperton.

Where have you gone:
where have you gone?

Then came the Conservancy 
and tore out your heart;
ripped off your wheelhouse
and broke you apart –
just threw your pieces
into a barge –
a century of our history
lost to the past.

So, Empress – my Empress,
where have you gone?
Just lying and forgotten
down in old Shepperton.
Just broken and forgotten
down in old Shepperton.

Where have you gone:
where have you gone?

Just broken and forgotten
down in old Shepperton.