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 | The complete poetical works of Thomas Hood |  |
THE SUB-MARINE
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 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 trowsers were so wide and blue,
And quite in sailor taste!
Of red with yellow faced,
But (merman-like) he look'd marine
All downward from the waist;
His trowsers 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!
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 seem'd 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!
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!
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!
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!
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 open'd 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!’
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!
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!
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!
315
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!’
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!
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,
And little sanded floor!
Kept fading more and more,
He only saw the bar-maid stand
With pouting lip before—
The small green parlour of The Ship,
And little sanded floor!
| The complete poetical works of Thomas Hood | |