Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE MERMAID, by ISABEL ECCLESTONE MACKAY


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE MERMAID, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Come hither, little millicent, and sit upon my knee
Last Line: Oh, lovely they, with waves at play, but doom unto a ship!
Subject(s): Children; Mermaids & Mermen; Sea; Childhood; Ocean


COME hither, little Millicent, and sit upon my knee,
I have a curious tale to tell of strange things and the sea—
Strange is the land, my Millicent, but stranger is the sea!

What happened was in Danger Bay, in sight of Cape Farewell,
A brisk young storm came breezing up with a ginger-colored swell—
You never know how hard 'twill blow with a ginger-colored swell!

The bosun piped all hands on deck, the which to shorten sail,
When what d'you think we saw adrift in the teeth of that whistling gale?
Why—a young mermaid, that had got mislaid, alone in that nasty gale!

Now it wasn't a easy thing to do, but I'm wishful to record
By a pretty bit of seamanship we got that gal aboard—
We tacked a bit and slacked a bit and hauled her safe aboard.

Yet never a "thank ye!" did we get for not a word said she,
All dripping on the dripping deck as graceful as may be,
As graceful as a cat that has no fear of what may be.

Strange seaweeds wrapped her like a cloak; her arms were chill and bare,
Her eyes shone bright as drowned gems behind her wet, gold hair—
As lights half seen, through water green, they glimmered through her hair!

The salt lay on her parted lips like rime on coral red
But nothing did she answer to a single word we said—
No word at all to aught or all of anything we said!

Then spoke the Captain bluff and brief, though he shuffled where he stood,
"Maybe a dish o'tea—or two—would do the lady good—
A dish o' tea, with rum," said he, "does anybody good!"

The mermaid's eyes turned greener still and, all at once she smiled,
No innocenter smile could be, not even on a child—
It almost seemed that we had dreamed and that she was a child!

But as we wondered, smiling back, no one knew whence nor how
A terrible great wave arose and smote us on our bow—
Rose like a hill, stood stiff and still, and fell upon our bow!

So—that's the tale, small Millicent, of happ'nings that befell
Poor sailormen of which I am the last one left to tell—
The last and lonely only one that's left alive to tell!

For you must know, what we knew not—before that ill-starred trip—
Mermaids are pleasant to the eye but fatal to a ship—
Oh, lovely they, with waves at play, but doom unto a ship!





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