MATTHEW ARNOLD

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 hoarse wind blows colder ;

Lights shine 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 for ever

The kings of the sea.'

But, children, at midnight, When soft the winds blow;

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