Chapter 34

IN WHICH YOU ARE SHOWN THE RIVER'S VERY SOURCES, FAR UNDERGROUND

And is it I that must sit and spin? And is it I that my hair must bind? I hear but the great seas rolling in, I see but the great gulls sail the wind.

Who sang the grey monk out o' the cell? Who but my mother that rode the sea! She stole a son o' the church to hell, And out of hell shall the church steal me?

_Sir Hugh and the Mermaiden._