Full fathom five thy father lies;
Of his bones are coral made;
Those are pearls that were his eyes:
Nothing of him that doth fade,
But doth suffer a sea-change
Into something rich and strange.
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell:
Hark! now I hear them,—ding-dong, bell- William Shakespeare, The Tempest, Act 1 Scene 2
I remember this as a vivid piece of poetry that a friend of mine declared her grandparents used to read to her at night before she went to sleep and it prompted me to wonder, what sort of masochistic grandparents did she have? Most of use had the Three Bears read to us.
I often wonder how, or even if, that slightly creepy poem affected her. As with most childhood friends based purely on (primary) school base geography it ended with the Ascension to Secondary school and I never was able to subsequently…