Down, down, down. 85
Down to the depths of the sea.
She sits at her wheel in the humming town,
Singing most joyfully.
Hark, what she sings; ‘O joy, O joy,
For the humming street, and the child with its toy, 90
For the priest, and the bell, and the holy well,
For the wheel where I spun,
And the blessèd light of the sun.’
And so she sings her fill,