Now the wild white horses play, This way, this way! Margaret! Margaret!" Children's voices should be dear (Call once more) to a mother's ear; This way, this way! "Mother dear, we cannot stay! The wild white horses foam and fret." Margaret! Margaret! Come, dear children, come away down; One last look at the white-wall'd town, And the little grey church on the windy shore; She will not come though you call all day; 30 Children dear, was it yesterday We heard the sweet bells over the bay? In the caverns where we lay, Through the surf and through the swell, 30 Sand-strewn caverns, cool and deep, Where the spent lights quiver and gleam, Children dear, was it yesterday On a red gold throne in the heart of the sea, She comb'd its bright hair, and she tended it 40 When down swung the sound of a far-off bell. She sigh'd, she look'd up through the clear green sea; She said: "I must go, for my kinsfolk pray In the little grey church on the shore to-day. 'T will be Easter-time in the world-ah me! And I lose my poor soul, Merman! here with thee." I said: "Go up, dear heart, through the waves; 50 60 Say thy prayer, and come back to the kind seacaves!" She smiled, she went up through the surf in the bay. Children dear, was it yesterday? Children dear, were we long alone? "The sea grows stormy, the little ones moan; Long prayers," I said, "in the world they say; Come!" I said; and we rose through the surf in the bay. We went up the beach, by the sandy down Where the sea-stocks bloom, to the whitewall'd town; Through the narrow paved streets, where all was still, To the little grey church on the windy hill. their prayers, But we stood without in the cold blowing airs. We climb'd on the graves, on the stones worn with rains, And we gazed up the aisle through the small leaded panes. She sate by the pillar; we saw her clear: 70 80 Down, down, down! Down to the depths of the sea! She sits at her wheel in the humming town, Hark what she sings: "O joy, O joy, For the humming street, and the child with its toy! For the priest and the bell, and the holy well; For the wheel where I spun, And the blessed light of the sun!" And so she sings her fill, Singing most joyfully, Till the spindle drops from her hand, And the whizzing wheel stands still. 90 She steals to the window, and looks at the sand, And over the sand at the sea; A long, long sigh; For the cold strange eyes of a little Mermaiden And the gleam of her golden hair. Come away, away children; She will start from her slumber 100 110 Will hear the waves roar. We shall see, while above us A pavement of pearl. Singing: "Here came a mortal, But faithless was she! And alone dwell for ever The kings of the sea." But, children, at midnight, We will gaze, from the sand-hills, At the church on the hill-side And then come back down. Singing: "There dwells a loved one, But cruel is she! She left lonely for ever The kings of the sea." 1849. 120 130 140 Matthew Arnold. |