Collected poems by Vachel Lindsay revised and illustrated edition |
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THE SEA SERPENT CHANTEY |
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Collected poems by Vachel Lindsay | ||
149
THE SEA SERPENT CHANTEY
I
There's a snake on the western wave
And his crest is red.
He is long as a city street,
And he eats the dead.
There's a hole in the bottom of the sea
Where the snake goes down.
And he waits in the bottom of the sea
For the men that drown.
And his crest is red.
He is long as a city street,
And he eats the dead.
There's a hole in the bottom of the sea
Where the snake goes down.
And he waits in the bottom of the sea
For the men that drown.
Chorus:—
This is the voice of the sand
(The sailors understand)
“There is far more sea than sand,
There is far more sea than land.
Yo ... ho, yo ... ho.”
(The sailors understand)
“There is far more sea than sand,
There is far more sea than land.
Yo ... ho, yo ... ho.”
II
He waits by the door of his cave
While the ages moan.
He cracks the ribs of the ships
With his teeth of stone.
In his gizzard deep and long
Much treasure lies.
Oh, the pearls and the Spanish gold. ...
And the idols' eyes. ...
Oh, the totem poles ... the skulls ...
The altars cold ...
The wedding rings, the dice ...
The buoy bells old.
While the ages moan.
He cracks the ribs of the ships
With his teeth of stone.
In his gizzard deep and long
Much treasure lies.
Oh, the pearls and the Spanish gold. ...
And the idols' eyes. ...
Oh, the totem poles ... the skulls ...
The altars cold ...
The wedding rings, the dice ...
The buoy bells old.
Chorus:—
This is the voice, etc.
150
III
Dive, mermaids, with sharp swordsAnd cut him through,
And bring us the idols' eyes
And the red gold too.
Lower the grappling hooks
Good pirate men
And drag him up by the tongue
From his deep wet den.
We will sail to the end of the world,
We will nail his hide
To the mainmast of the moon
In the evening tide.
IV
Or will you let him live,
The deep-sea thing,
With the wrecks of all the world
In a black wide ring
By the hole in the bottom of the sea
Where the snake goes down,
Where he waits in the bottom of the sea
For the men that drown?
The deep-sea thing,
With the wrecks of all the world
In a black wide ring
By the hole in the bottom of the sea
Where the snake goes down,
Where he waits in the bottom of the sea
For the men that drown?
Chorus:—
This is the voice, etc.
Collected poems by Vachel Lindsay | ||