OFF THE GROUND
But never a ripple
Nor bubble told
Where he was supping
Off plates of gold.
Never an echo
Rilled ihrouph the sea
Of the feasting and dancing
And minstrelsy.
They called — called — called:
Came no reply:
Nought but the ripples'
Sandy sigh.
Then glum and silent
They sat instead,
Vacantly brooding
On home and bed,
Till both together
Stood up and said: —
"Us knows not, dreams not,
Where you be,
Turvey, unless
In the deep blue sea;
But excusing silver —
And it comes most willing —
Here's us two paying
Our forty shilling;
For it's sartin sure, Turvey,
Safe and sound.
You danced us square, Turvey,
Off the ground!"
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