Come unto these yellow sands,
And then take hands.
Courtsied when you have and kissed
The wild waves whist.
Foot it featly here and there,
And sweet sprites bear
The burden. Hark, hark!
The watch dogs bark!
Hark, hark! I hear
The strain of strutting chanticleer
Full fathom five thy father lies,
Of his bones are coral made.
Those are pearls that were his eyes,
Nothing of him that doth fade
But doth suffer a sea change
Into something rich and strange.
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell.
Hark, now I hear them:
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