Classic Poem

The liquid unhorizoned sea
Heaves tranquilly,
As though
Inshore below,
How few feet deep,
A lazy mermaid turned herself in sleep.
That boy, entranced, who quite forgets his spade

To stand and stare,
Might almost wade
And peering find his ankles in her seaweed hair.
But he would rather watch his cork afloat,
Lulled on the lucent, calm expanse above,
Or see the far-off chuffing motor-boat
As white as Noah's dove.