Who ever such adventure yet,
Or a like delight has known,
To that which Count Arnaldo met
On the morning of St. John?
He had gone forth beside the sea,
With his falcon on his hand,
And saw a pinnace fast and free,
That was making to the land.
And he that by the rudder stood
As he went was singing still,
“My galley, oh my galley good,
Heaven protect thee from all ill;
“From all the dangers and the woe
That on ocean’s waters wait,
Almeria’s reefs and shallows low,
And Gibraltar’s stormy strait.
“From Venice and its shallow way,
From the shoals of Flanders’ coast,
And from the gulf of broad Biscay,
Where the dangers are the most.”
Then Count Arnaldo spoke aloud,
You might hear his accents well—
“Those words, thou mariner, I would
Unto me that thou wouldst tell.”
To him that mariner replied
In a courteous tone, but free—
“I never sing that song,” he cried,
“Save to one who sails with me.”