Poetical works of the late F. Sayers to which have been prefixed the connected disquisitions on the rise and progress of English poetry, and on English metres, and also some biographic particulars of the author, supplied by W. Taylor |
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 | Poetical works of the late F. Sayers |  |
164
THE SONG OF DANAE.
Loud roar'd the wind—the richly-carved chest,
By mountain waves was wildly borne along,
Her infant Perseus Danae gently press'd,
And weeping, trembling, thus began her song.
By mountain waves was wildly borne along,
Her infant Perseus Danae gently press'd,
And weeping, trembling, thus began her song.
“Alas! my child, what countless woes I bear,
Whilst thy young heart is calm'd by sweetest sleep;
Toss'd in the cheerless ark thro' misty air,
And moon-beams faintly playing o'er the deep.
Whilst thy young heart is calm'd by sweetest sleep;
Toss'd in the cheerless ark thro' misty air,
And moon-beams faintly playing o'er the deep.
Peaceful thou sleep'st, nor heed'st the howling wind,
Nor waves that o'er thy ringlets dash their spray;
Half-smiling still, on purple vest reclin'd,
Those blooming features sooth my wild dismay.
Nor waves that o'er thy ringlets dash their spray;
Half-smiling still, on purple vest reclin'd,
Those blooming features sooth my wild dismay.
Ah! could'st thou tell—but no—thy mother's breast
Would then be tortur'd by a keener grief—
Sleep on, my child—ye waves too, sink to rest—
Sleep, sleep, my woes, and grant some short relief.
Would then be tortur'd by a keener grief—
Sleep on, my child—ye waves too, sink to rest—
Sleep, sleep, my woes, and grant some short relief.
165
Vain be the counsels of those haughty powers,
Whose wrath my boundless suffering cannot shake;
Save me, protecting Jove, for happier hours,
O save the mother for her infant's sake!”
Whose wrath my boundless suffering cannot shake;
Save me, protecting Jove, for happier hours,
O save the mother for her infant's sake!”
| Poetical works of the late F. Sayers | |