Songs of the Sea and Lays of the Land. Charles Godfrey Leland

Songs of the Sea and Lays of the Land - Charles Godfrey Leland


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del mar!

      Daro cento ducati

      Se tu mi lasci andar!”

      “Non prenderò cento ducati,

      Tu costi molto più,

      Io te vendrò al Sultano,”

      Disse il Capitano

      “Per mille zecchini d’oro

      Vi stimi troppo giù.”

      “Non vuoi i cento ducati.

      Ebben, tu non gli avrai,

      Ho un’amante amato

      Non mi abbandona mai.”

      Essa sedé sul ponte,

      Principiò a cantar:

      “Vieni il mio amante!”

      Da lontano il vento

      Si mette a mugghiar.

      Forte e più forte

      La tempesta ruggio:

      Gridava il Capitano:

      “Io credo che il tuo amante

      E il vento che corre innante,

      Ovvero il diavolo.”

      Forte e più forte

      La procella urlò:

      “Sono roccie davanti,

      E il vento vien di dietro,

      Ben venuto sei tu, mio amante!”

      La bella donna cantò.

      “Vattene al tuo amante

      All’inferno a cantar!”

      Disse il Capitano,

      E gettò la donna fuori

      Della nave nel mar.

      Ma come un gabbiano

      Sull’onde essa volò:

      “O mio Capitano!

      Non sarai appiccato,

      Ma sarai annegato;

      Per sempre addio!”

      “That’s derned good Dago,” cried Jack Saltonstall;

      “Blamed ef I didn’t understand it all.

      For the best songs are easiest understood:

      Now then let’s hear if t’other side’s as good!

      A song is like a bird—’cos birds do sing—

      So carve us out the second breast and wing;

      And with your anthem bid our hearts rejoice:”

      Encouraged thus I lifted up my voice.

       Table of Contents

      A pretty witch was bathing

      By the beach one summer day;

      There came a boat with pirates

      Who carried her away.

      The ship had a breeze behind her,

      Over the waves went she!

      “O Signor Capitano,

      O Captain of the Sea!

      I’ll give you a hundred ducats,

      If you will set me free!”

      “I will not take a hundred;

      You’re worth much more, you know:

      I’ll sell you to the Sultan

      For a thousand golden sequins:

      You put yourself far too low.”

      “You will not take a hundred,

      Very well then, let them be!

      But I have a constant lover

      Who, as you may discover,

      Will never abandon me.”

      On the deck, before the rover,

      The witch began to sing:

      “Oh come to me, my lover!”

      And the wind as it stole over

      Began to howl and ring.

      Louder and ever louder

      Became the tempest’s roar,

      The captain in a passion

      Thus at the lady swore:

      “I believe that your windy lover

      Is the devil and nothing more!”

      Wilder and ever wilder

      The tempest raged and rang,

      “There are rocks ahead, and the wind dead aft,

      Thank you, my love!” the lady laughed

      As unto the wind she sang.

      “Oh go with your cursed lover

      To inferno to sing for me!”

      So cried the angry captain,

      And threw the lady over

      To sink in the stormy sea.

      But changing into a sea-gull

      Over the waves she flew.

      “O capitain, captain bold,” sang she,

      “ ’Tis true you’ve missed the gallows tree,

      But now you’ll drown in the foaming sea,

      O captain, forever adieu!”

      “Talkin’ of witches and magicianers,”

      Cried out Jack Saltonstall of Newbury port,

      “They are the devil’s own parishioners,

      And I knew one of a peculiar sort,

      Because he was a sailor—had he been

      A lawyer, now, it wouldn’t seem so queer:

      For conjurers ’mong us ain’t often seen,

      And he was of the kind who ain’t small beer,

      Possessing cash enough to roll in bliss:

      However that may be, the story’s this.”

       Table of Contents

      Once when I went upon a trip

      Likewise to the Southern sea,

      We had a man upon the ship

      And a wonderful man was he.

      A handsomer man I never did spy,

      At home or in any port;

      But there was something in his eye

      Of a most peculiar sort.

      And all in Trinidado’s port

      Was a woman fair and rich,

      With


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