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36 THE GOLDEN TREASURY OF |
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THE SAILOR
T
HOU that hast a daughter For one to woo and wed, Give her to a husband
With snow upon his head; Oh, give her to an old man,
Though little joy it be,
Before the best young sailor
That sails upon the sea!
How luckless is the sailor
When sick and like to die ! He sees no tender mother,
No sweetheart standing by. Only the captain speaks to him —
Stand up, stand up, young man And steer the ship to haven,
As none beside thee can.
Thou sayest to me, "Stand up, stand up; "
I say to thee, take hold Lift me a little from the deck,
My hands and feet are cold. And let my head, I pray thee
With handkerchief be bound : There, take my love's own handkerchief,
And tie it tightly round.
Now bring the chart, the doleful chart;
See where these mountains meet— The clouds are thick around their head,
The mists around their feet: Cast anchor here; 'tis deep and safe
Within the rocky cleft |
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