The Crymes of the Ancient Marin'r, Chapter 9
Barry Slorridge
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The Crymes of the Ancient Marin'r I useth mine own masting pole To plow thy floweth'r hole And thy petals didst rip Sipeth the salt Of mine own exquisite, dryeth malt And cry, dearest strumpet Cry The Crymes of the Ancient Marin'r I useth mine own masting pole To plow thy floweth'r hole And thy petals didst rip Sipeth the salt Of mine own exquisite, dryeth malt And cry, dearest strumpet Cry
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