An Old Song
THE sun set, the wind fell, the seaWas like a mirror shaking:The one small wave that clapped the landA mile-long snake of foam was makingWhere tide had smoothed and wind had driedThe vacant sand.
A light divided the swollen cloudsAnd lay most perfectlyLike a straight narrow footbridge brightThat crossed over the sea to me;And no one else in the whole worldSaw that same sight.
I walked elate, my bridge alwaysJust one step from my feet:A robin sang, a shade in shade:And all I did was to repeat:"I'll go no more a-rovingWith you, fair maid."
The sailors' song of merry lovingWith dusk and sea-gull's mewingMixed sweet, the lewdness far outweighedBy the wild charm the chorus played:"I'll go no more a-rovingWith you, fair maid:A-roving, a-roving, since roving's been my ruin,I'll go no more a-roving with you, fair maid."
In Amsterdam there dwelt a maid--Mark well what I do say--In Amsterdam there dwelt a maidAnd she was a mistress of her trade:I'll go no more a-rovingWith you, fair maid:A-roving, a-roving, since roving's been my ruin,I'll go no more a-roving with you, fair maid.
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