The Poetry Corner

The Neckan

By Matthew Arnold

In summer, on the headlands, The Baltic Sea along, Sits Neckan with his harp of gold, And sings his plaintive song. Green rolls beneath the headlands, Green rolls the Baltic Sea. And there, below the Neckans feet, His wife and children be. He sings not of the ocean, Its shells and roses pale. Of earth, of earth the Neckan sings; He hath no other tale. He sits upon the headlands, And sings a mournful stave Of all he saw and felt on earth, Far from the green sea wave. Sings how, a knight, he wanderd By castle, field, and town. But earthly knights have harder hearts Than the Sea Children own. Sings of his earthly bridal Priest, knights, and ladies gay. And who art thou, the priest began, Sir Knight, who weddst to-day? I am no knight, he answerd; From the sea waves I come. The knights drew sword, the ladies screamd, The surplicd priest stood dumb. He sings how from the chapel He vanishd with his bride, And bore her down to the sea halls, Beneath the cold sea tide. He sings how she sits weeping Mid shells that round her lie. False Neckan shares my bed, she weeps; No Christian mate have I. He sings how through the billows He rose to earth again, And sought a priest to sign the cross, That Neckan Heaven might gain. He sings how, on an evening, Beneath the birch trees cool, He sate and play d his harp of gold, Beside the river pool. Beside the pool sate Neckan Tears filld his cold blue eye. On his white mule, across the bridge, A cassockd priest rode by. Why sittst thou there, O Neckan, And playst thy harp of gold? Sooner shall this my staff bear leaves, Than thou shalt Heaven behold. But, lo, the staff, it budded! It greend, it branchd, it waved. O ruth of God, the preist cried out, This lost sea-creature saved! The cassockd priest rode onwards, And vanishd with his mule. And Neckan in the twilight grey Wept by the river pool. He wept: The earth hath kindness, The sea, the starry poles; Earth, sea, and sky, and God above But, ah, not human souls! In summer, on the headlands, The Baltic Sea along, Sits Neckan with his harp of gold, And sings this plaintive song.