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SIMPLE ENGLISH POEMS.

PART III.

MATTHEW ARNOLD: 1822.

THE FORSAKEN MERMAN.

COME, dear children, let us away;
Down and away below!
Now my brothers call from the bay;
Now the great winds shoreward blow;
Now the salt tides seaward flow;
Now the wild white horses play,
Champ and chafe and toss in the
Children dear, let us away!
This way, this way!

Call her once before you go-
Call once yet!

In a voice that she will know;

"Margaret Margaret!"

Children's voices should be dear

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Come, dear children, come away down!

Call no more!

One last look at the white-wall'd town,

And the little grey church on the windy shore
Then come down!

She will not come though you call all day.
Come away, come away!

Children dear, was it yesterday

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We heard the sweet bells over the bay?
In the caverns where we lay,

Through the surf and through the swell
The far-off sound of a silver bell?
Sand-strewn caverns, cool and deep,
Where the winds are all asleep;
Where the spent lights quiver and gleam;
Where the salt weed sways in the stream;
Where the sea-beasts, ranged all round,
Feed in the ooze of their pasture ground;
Where the sea-snakes coil and twine,
Dry their mail and bask in the brine;
Where great whales come sailing by,
Sail and sail, with unshut eye,

Round the world for ever and aye
When did music come this way?
Children dear, was it yesterday?

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Children dear, was it yesterday

(Call yet once) that she went away ?
Once she sate with you and me,

On a red gold throne in the heart of the sea,
And the youngest sate on her knee.

She comb'd its bright hair, and she tended it well,
When down swung the sound of the far-off bell.

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She sigh'd, she look'd up through the clear green sea; 55 She said: "I must go, for my kinsfolk pray

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In the little grey church on the shore to-day.
"Twill be Easter-time in the world-ah me!
And I lose my poor soul, merman! here with thee."
I said: "Go up, dear heart, through the waves!
Say thy prayer, and come back to the kind sea-caves!"
She smiled, she went up through the surf in the bay.
Children dear, was it yesterday?

Children dear, were we long alone?

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"The sea grows stormy, the little ones moan. Long prayers," I said, "in the world they say," "Come," I said, and we rose through the surf in the bay. We went up the beach, by the sandy down,

prayers,

Where the sea-stocks bloom, to the white-wall'd town,
Through the narrow paved streets, where all was still, 70
To the little grey church on the windy hill.
From the church came a murmur of folk at their
But we stood without in the cold blowing airs.
We climb'd on the graves, on the stones, worn with rains,
And we gazed up the aisle through the small leaded
panes.

She sat by the pillar; we saw her clear:
"Margaret, hist! come quick, we are here.
Dear heart,” I said, "we are long alone.
The sea grows stormy, the little ones moan.'
But, ah, she gave me never a look,
For her eyes were seal'd on the holy book.

Loud prays the priest, shut stands the door.
Come away, children, call no more.
Come away, come down, call no more.

Down, down, down,

Down to the depths of the sea.

She sits at her wheel in the humming town,

Singing most joyfully.

Hark, what she sings: "O joy, O joy,

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For the humming street, and the child with its toy; 90 For the priest, and the bell, and the holy well;

For the wheel where I spun,

And the blessed light of the sun."
And so she sings her fill,

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And the whizzing wheel stands still.

She steals to the window, and looks at the sand;

And over the sand at the sea;

And her eyes are set in a stare;

And anon there breaks a sigh,
And anon there drops a tear,
From a sorrow-clouded eye,
And a heart sorrow-laden,
A long, long sigh;

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For the cold grey eyes of a little mermaiden,
And the gleam of her golden hair.

Come away, away, children.
Come, children, come down.
The hoarse wind blows colder;
Lights shine in the town.

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She will start from her slumber
When gusts shake the door;

She will hear the winds howling,

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SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE: 1772-1834.

THE RIME OF THE ANCIENT MARINER.

PART I.

Ir is an ancient Mariner,

And he stoppeth one of three.

"By thy long gray beard and glittering eye,
Now wherefore stopp'st thou me ?

"The Bridegroom's doors are opened wide,
And I am next of kin ;

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The guests are met, the feast is set:

Mayst hear the merry din."

He holds him with his skinny hand,

"There was a ship," quoth he.

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"Hold off! unhand me, gray-beard loon!"

Eftsoons his hand dropt he.

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"The ship was cheered, the harbour cleared,

Merrily did we drop

Below the kirk, below the hill,

Below the lighthouse top.

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The Wedding-Guest here beat his breast,
For he heard the loud bassoon.

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