Classic Poem

A convent lies deep-sunken
Beneath the tranquil wave;
The sisters and the father
Have found a watery grave.
A troop of laughing mermaids
Go swimming round and round,
In every corner peering
For what may there be found.

Through dormit'ry and chapel
A splashing rabble steers,
The locutorium's prattle
Again the convent hears.
Right blithely peals the organ,
Song through the choir resounds,
And—when it suits the ringers—
The bell for vespers sounds.

The verdant beach invites them,
When gleams the moon o'erhead,
Decked out in sacred garments
A merry round to tread;
Black stoles stream out and flutter,
White veils, swift whirling, glance;
The flaming tapers splutter
As though they joined the dance.

In yonder cave, a goblin—
Behind a stony mound—
A father's cowl wraps round him
Which on the shore he found;
In haste—to scare the dancers—
He joins the motley rout;
But down into the abbey
They dive with jeering shout.