  IT was a brave and jolly wight, His cheek was baked and brown, For he had been in many climes With captains of renown, And fought with those who fought so well At Nile and Camperdown. His coat it was a soldier coat, Of red with yellow faced, But (merman-like) he look’d marine All downward from the waist; His trousers were so wide and blue, And quite in sailor taste! He put the rummer to his lips, And drank a jolly draught; He raised the rummer many times— And ever as he quaff’d, The more he drank the more the ship Seem’d pitching fore and aft! The ship seemed pitching fore and aft, As in a heavy squall; It gave a lurch and down he went, Head-foremost in his fall! Three times he did not rise, alas! He never rose at all! But down he went right down at once, Like any stone he dived, He could not see, or hear, or feel— Of senses all deprived! At last he gave a look around To see where he arrived! And all that he could see was green, Sea-green on every hand! And then he tried to sound beneath, And all he felt was sand! There he was fain to lie, for he Could neither sit nor stand! And lo! above his head there bent A strange and staring lass; One hand was in her yellow hair, The other held a glass; A mermaid she must surely be If ever mermaid was! Her fish-like mouth was opened wide, Her eyes were blue and pale, Her dress was of the ocean green, When ruffled by a gale; Thought he “beneath that petticoat She hides a salmon-tail!” She look’d as siren ought to look, A sharp and bitter shrew, To sing deceiving lullabies For mariners to rue,— But when he saw her lips apart, It chill’d him through and through! With either hand he stopp’d his ears Against her evil cry; Alas, alas, for all his care, His doom it seem’d to die, Her voice went ringing through his head It was so sharp and high! He thrust his fingers farther in At each unwilling ear, But still in very spite of all The words were plain and clear; “I can’t stand here the whole day long, To hold your glass of beer!” With open’d mouth and open’d eyes, Up rose the sub-marine, And gave a stare to find the sands And deeps where he had been: There was no siren with her glass! No waters ocean-green! The wet deception from his eyes Kept fading more and more, He only saw the bar-maid stand With pouting lip before— The small green parlour of the Ship, |
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