Tell me, sarah jane — charles causely

Tell me, tell me, Sarah Jane,
Tell me, dearest daughter,
Why are you holding in your hand
A thimbleful of water?
Why do you hold it to your eye
And gaze both late and soon
From early morning light until
The rising of the moon?

Mother, I bear the mermaids cry,
I bear the mermen sing,
And I can see the sailing-ships
All made of sticks and string
And I can see the jumping fish,
The whales that fall and rise
And swim about the waterspout
That swarms up to the skies.

Tell me, tell me, Sarah Jane,
Tell your darling mother,
Why do you walk beside the tide
As though you loved none other?
Why do you listen to a shell
And watch the billows curl,
And throw away your diamond ring
And wear instead the pearl?

Mother I hear the water
Beneath the headland pinned,
And I can see the sea-gull
Sliding down the wind.
I taste the salt upon my tongue
As sweet as sweet can be

Tell me, my dear, whose voice you hear?

It is the sea, the sea.