Leagues, leagues over the sea I sail
The sky is on fire, the waves a-sheen,
In a sea-weed hat on the rocks I sit,
In caverns cool when the tide's a wash,
From out their grottos at evenings beam,
To where I watch on the yellow sands,|
and they pluck sweet music with sea-cold hands.
They bring me coral and amber clear.
their music ceases, they glide away.
Then listen only to my shrill tune,