An Old Song

3 0 00

An Old Song

The sun set, the wind fell, the sea

Was like a mirror shaking:

The one small wave that clapped the land

A mile-long snake of foam was making

Where tide had smoothed and wind had dried

The vacant sand.

A light divided the swollen clouds

And lay most perfectly

Like a straight narrow footbridge bright

That crossed over the sea to me;

And no one else in the whole world

Saw that same sight.

I walked elate, my bridge always

Just one step from my feet:

A robin sang, a shade in shade:

And all I did was to repeat:

“I’ll go no more a-roving

With you, fair maid.”

The sailors’ song of merry loving

With dusk and sea-gull’s mewing

Mixed sweet, the lewdness far outweighed

By the wild charm the chorus played:

“I’ll go no more a-roving

With you, fair maid:

A-roving, a-roving, since roving’s been my ruin,

I’ll go no more a-roving with you, fair maid.”

In Amsterdam there dwelt a maid⁠—

Mark well what I do say⁠—

In Amsterdam there dwelt a maid

And she was a mistress of her trade:

I’ll go no more a-roving

With you, fair maid:

A-roving, a-roving, since roving’s been my ruin,

I’ll go no more a-roving with you, fair maid.