Poems, Chiefly Lyrical/The Mermaid
For other versions of this work, see The Mermaid (Tennyson).
THE MERMAID.
Who would beA mermaid fair,Singing alone,Combing her hairUnder the sea,In a golden curlWith a comb of pearl,On a throne?
I would be a mermaid fair:I would sing to myself the whole of the day; With a comb of pearl I would comb my hair;And still as I combed I would sing and say,"Who is it loves me? who loves not me?"I would comb my hair till my ringlets would fall,Low adown, low adown,From under my starry seabud crownLow adown and around,And I should look like a fountain of goldSpringing aloneWith a shrill inner sound,Over the throneIn the midst of the hall;Till that great seasnake under the seaFrom his coiled sleeps in the central deepsWould slowly trail himself sevenfoldRound the hall where I sate, and look in at the gateWith his large calm eyes for the love of me.And all the mermen under the seaWould feel their immortalityDie in their hearts for the love of me.
But at night I would wander away, away,I would fling on each side my lowflowing locks,And lightly vault from the throne and playWith the mermen in and out of the rocks;We would run to and fro, and hide and seek,On the broad seawolds i' the crimson shells,Whose silvery spikes are nighest the sea.But if any came near I would call, and shriek,And adown the steep like a wave I would leap,From the diamondledges that jut from the dells;For I would not be kist by all who would list,Of the bold merry mermen under the sea;They would sue me, and woo me, and flatter me,In the purple twilights under the sea;But the king of them all would carry me,Woo me, and win me, and marry me,In the branching jaspers under the sea;Then all the dry pied things that beIn the hueless mosses under the seaWould curl round my silver feet silently, All looking up for the love of me.And if I should carol aloud, from aloftAll things that are forkéd, and hornéd, and softWould lean out from the hollow sphere of the sea,All looking down for the love of me.