Jean Ingelow

“ Long life to the captain, good luck to the mate,
And this to my sailor boy!
Come over, come home,
Through the salt sea foam,
My sailor, my sailor boy.
'Here's a crown to be given away, I ween,
A crown for my sailor's head.
And all for the worth of a widowed queen,
And the love of the noble dead,
And the fear and fame
Of the island's name
Where my boy was born and bred.
'Content thee, content thee, let it alone,
Thou marked for a choice so rare;
Though treaties be treaties, never a throne
Was proffered for cause as fair. ”

“ So I kissed her and brought her, my Dane, my Dane,
Through the waving wonderful crowd:
Thousands and thousands, they shouted amain.
Like mighty thunders and loud.
And they said, 'He is young, the lad we love,
The heir of the Isles is young:
How we deem of his mother, and one gone above,
Can neither be said nor sung. ”

“ Then some look'd uppe into the sky,
⁠And all along where Lindis flows
To where the goodly vessels lie,
⁠And where the lordly steeple shows.
They sayde, 'And why should this thing be?
What danger lowers by land or sea? ”