Singing alone, Combing her hair
Under the sea, In a golden curl
With a comb of pearl, On a throne?
II. 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 comb’d 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 sea-bud crown
Low adown and around, And I should look like a fountain of gold
Springing alone With a shrill inner sound,
Over the throne In the midst of the hall;
Till that great sea-snake under the sea
From his coiled sleeps in the central deeps
Round the hall where I sate, and look in at the gate
With his large calm eyes for the love of me.
And all the mermen under the sea
Would feel their immortality
Die in their hearts for the love of me.
an excerpt from "The Mermaid" by Alfred Lord Tennyson
This post is part of the 44 Days of Witchery