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And of those tales, what'eer they were,The blind Boy always had his share;Whether of mighty Towns, or ValesWith warmer suns and softer gales,Or wonders of the Deep.
Yet more it pleased him, more it stirr'd,When from the water-side he heardThe shouting, and the jolly cheers,The bustle of the marinersIn stillness or in storm.
But what do his desires avail?For He must never handle sail;Nor mount the mast, nor row, nor floatIn Sailor's ship or Fisher's boatUpon the rocking waves.
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