Maud, Locksley hall, and other poems . IT SEES ITSELF FROM THATCH TO BASE. (363) THE SAILOR BOY. He; rose at dawn and, fired with hope,Shot oer the seething harboiir-bar, And reachd the ship and caught the rope,And whistled to the morning star. And while he whistled long and loudHe heard a fierce mermaiden cry, O boy, tho thou art young and proud,I see the place where thou wilt lie. The sands and yeasty surges mixIn caves about the dreary bay, And on thy ribs the limpet sticks. And in thy heart the scrawl shall play. Fool, he answerd, death is sureTo those that stay and those that roam, But I
Maud, Locksley hall, and other poems . IT SEES ITSELF FROM THATCH TO BASE. (363) THE SAILOR BOY. He; rose at dawn and, fired with hope,Shot oer the seething harboiir-bar, And reachd the ship and caught the rope,And whistled to the morning star. And while he whistled long and loudHe heard a fierce mermaiden cry, O boy, tho thou art young and proud,I see the place where thou wilt lie. The sands and yeasty surges mixIn caves about the dreary bay, And on thy ribs the limpet sticks. And in thy heart the scrawl shall play. Fool, he answerd, death is sureTo those that stay and those that roam, But I will nevermore endure To sit with empty hands at home. My mother clings about my sisters crying, Stay for shame ; My father raves of death and wreck,They are all to blame, they are all to blame. (364) The Sailor Boy. 365 God help me ! save I take my partOf danger on the roaring sea, A devil rises in my heart, Far worse than any death to THE ISLET. Whither, O whither, love, shall we go, For a score of sweet little summers or so ? The sweet little wife of the singer said, On the day that foUowd the day she was wed, Whither, O whither, love, shall we go ? And the singer shaking his curly head Turnd as he sat, and struck the keys There at, his right with a sudden crash, Singing, And shall it be over the seas With a crew that is neither rude nor rash, But a bevy of Broses apple-cheekd, In a shallop of crystal ivory-beakd, With a satin sail of a ruby glow. To a sweet little Eden on earth that I know, A mountain islet pointed and peakd; Waves on a diamond shingle dash, Cataract brooks to the ocean run, Fairily-delicate palaces shine Mixt with m3rtle and clad with vine, And overstreamd and silvery-streakd With many a rivulet high against the Sun The facets of the glorious mountain flash Above the valleys of palm and pine. Thither, O thither, love, let us go. * No, no, no ! For in all that exquisite isle, my dear, (366) The I
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