Golden Numbers Part 60

Sand-strewn caverns cool and deep, Where the winds are all asleep; Where the spent lights quiver and gleam; Where the salt weed sways in the stream; Where the sea-beasts rang'd all round Feed in the ooze of their pasture ground; Where the sea-snakes coil and twine, Dry their mail and bask in the brine; Where great whales come sailing by, Sail and sail, with unshut eye, Round the world forever and aye?

When did music come this way?

Children dear, was it yesterday?

Children dear, was it yesterday (Call yet once) that she went away?

Once she sat with you and me, On a red-gold throne in the heart of the sea.

And the youngest sat on her knee.

She comb'd its bright hair, and she tended it well, When down swung the sound of the 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 gray church on the sh.o.r.e to-day.

'Twill 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: Say thy prayer, and come back to the kind sea-caves."

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 in the sandy down Where the sea-stocks bloom, to the white-wall'd town, Through the narrow paved streets, where all was still, To the little gray church on the windy hill.

From the church came a murmur of folk at 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; "Margaret, hist! come quick, we are here.

Dear heart," I said, "we are here alone.

The sea grows stormy, the little ones moan."

But, ah, she gave me never a look, For her eyes were seal'd to the holy book.

Loud prays the priest; shut stands the door.

Come away, children, call no more, Come away, come down, call no more.

Down, down, down, Down to the depths of the sea, She sits at her wheel in the humming town, Singing most joyfully.

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 shuttle falls from her hand, And the whizzing wheel stands still.

She steals to the window and looks at the sand; And over the sand at the sea; And her eyes are set in a stare; And anon there breaks a sigh, And anon there drops a tear, From a sorrow clouded eye, And a heart sorrow laden, A long, long sigh, For the cold strange eyes of a little Mermaiden, And the gleam of her golden hair.

Come away, away, children, Come children, come down.

The hoa.r.s.e wind blows colder; Lights s.h.i.+ne in the town.

She will start from her slumber When gusts shake the door; She will hear the winds howling, Will hear the waves roar.

We shall see, while above us The waves roar and whirl, A ceiling of amber, A pavement of pearl.

Singing, "Here came a mortal, But faithless was she, And alone dwell forever The kings of the sea."

But, children, at midnight, When soft the winds blow, When clear falls the moonlight, When spring-tides are low; When sweet airs come seaward From heaths starr'd with broom; And high rocks throw mildly On the blanch'd sands a gloom: Up the still, glistening beaches, Up the creeks we will hie; Over banks of bright seaweed The ebb-tide leaves dry.

We will gaze from the sand-hills At the white sleeping town; At the church on the hillside-- And then come back, down.

Singing, "There dwells a loved one, But cruel is she: She left lonely forever The kings of the sea."

MATTHEW ARNOLD.

_The Sands of Dee_

I

"O Mary, go and call the cattle home, And call the cattle home, And call the cattle home Across the sands of Dee;"

The western wind was wild and dank wi' foam, And all alone went she.

II

The western tide crept up along the sand, And o'er and o'er the sand, And round and round the sand, As far as eye could see.

The rolling mist came down and hid the land-- And never home came she.

III

"Oh! is it weed, or fish, or floating hair-- A tress o' golden hair, A drowned maiden's hair Above the nets at sea?

Was never salmon yet that shone so fair Among the stakes on Dee."

IV

They rowed her in across the rolling foam, The cruel crawling foam, The cruel hungry foam, To her grave beside the sea: But still the boatmen hear her call the cattle home Across the sands of Dee!

CHARLES KINGSLEY.

_The "Gray Swan"_

"Oh, tell me, sailor, tell me true, Is my little lad, my Elihu, A-sailing with your s.h.i.+p?"

The sailor's eyes were dim with dew.

"Your little lad, your Elihu?"

He said with trembling lip,-- "What little lad? what s.h.i.+p?"

"What little lad? as if there could be Another such a one as he!

What little lad, do you say?

Why Elihu, that took to the sea The moment I put him off my knee!

It was just the other day The 'Gray Swan' sailed away."

"The other day?" The sailor's eyes Stood open with a great surprise: "The other day? the 'Swan'?"

His heart began in his throat to rise.

"Ay, ay, sir, here in the cupboard lies The jacket he had on."

"And so your lad is gone?"

"Gone with the 'Swan'?"--"And did she stand With her anchor clutching hold of the sand For a month, and never stir?"

"Why, to be sure! I've seen from the land, Like a lover kissing his lady's hand, The wild sea kissing her,-- A sight to remember, sir!"

"But, my good mother, do you know All this was twenty years ago?

I stood on the 'Gray Swan's' deck, And to that lad I saw you throw, Taking it off as it might be,--so!-- The kerchief from your neck."

"Ay, and he'll bring it back!"

"And did the little lawless lad, That has made you sick and made you sad, Sail with the 'Gray Swan's' crew?"

"Lawless! The man is going mad!

The best boy ever mother had!-- Be sure he sailed with the crew!

What would you have him do?"

"And has he never written line, Nor sent you word, nor made you sign, To say he was alive?"