Classic Poem

" I have seven ships upon the sea,
Laden with the finest gold,
And mariners to wait us upon;
All these you may behold.

" And I have shoes for my love's feet,
Beaten of the purest gold,
And linid wi the velvet soft,
To keep my love's feet from the cold.

" O how do you love the ship?" he said,
" Or how do you love the sea?
And how do you love the bold mariners
That wait upon thee and me?"

" O I do love the ship," she said,
" And I do love the sea;
But woe be to the dim mariners,
That nowhere I can see!"

They had not sailed a mile awa,
Never a mile but one,
When she began to weep and mourn,
And to think on her little wee son.

" O hold your tongue, my dear," he said,
" And let all your weeping abee,
For I 'll soon show to you how the lilies grow
On the banks of Italy."

They had not sailed a mile awa,
Never a mile but two,
Until she espied his cloven foot,
From his gay robes sticking thro.

They had not sailed a mile awa,
Never a mile but three,
When dark, dark, grew his eerie looks,
And raging grew the sea.

They had not sailed a mile awa,
Never a mile but four,
When the little wee ship ran round about,
And never was seen more.