 | The violet crown by Sir Rennell Rodd |  |
26
THE SIREN SONG
I heard it in the happy isles
Blown down the dying day,
The summer song whose lilt beguiles
The wanderer to stay:
Blown down the dying day,
The summer song whose lilt beguiles
The wanderer to stay:
It followed in the shorewind's breath,
The magic still was strong,
Although the note of change and death
Has touched the Sirens' song.
The magic still was strong,
Although the note of change and death
Has touched the Sirens' song.
They do not lure to new delights
Beyond what life has known,
To happy days and happy nights
In summer's slumber-zone;
Beyond what life has known,
To happy days and happy nights
In summer's slumber-zone;
But only, ‘who will rest awhile
From riot and from ruth,
Forget in such a sunny smile
The brazen eyes of truth!
From riot and from ruth,
Forget in such a sunny smile
The brazen eyes of truth!
27
‘Come hither, hither, come and dream
Of years dead long ago,
Until the earth and ocean seem
The world that poets know.
Of years dead long ago,
Until the earth and ocean seem
The world that poets know.
‘Come back and dwell with hopes long dead
And what will never be!
Avert thine eyes and turn thine head
From the world's way oversea!
And what will never be!
Avert thine eyes and turn thine head
From the world's way oversea!
‘For here are drowsy dreams to cheat
The eyes that else would weep,
And inland seas to bathe the feet,
And quiet vales for sleep.’
The eyes that else would weep,
And inland seas to bathe the feet,
And quiet vales for sleep.’
But deadly in the Sirens' song
As ever in the ears,
And ropes of faith must bind him strong
Who bides it when he hears.
As ever in the ears,
And ropes of faith must bind him strong
Who bides it when he hears.
For some have hearkened, lain them down
And drunk a deadly thing,
And soon the storms of winter drown
The hollow hope of spring.
And drunk a deadly thing,
And soon the storms of winter drown
The hollow hope of spring.
28
Pass, phantom music, pass away!
The purple isles grow dim;
The glamour of the dying day
Fades on the ocean's rim.
The purple isles grow dim;
The glamour of the dying day
Fades on the ocean's rim.
Enchantress of the mossy caves,
Sleep by thy drowsy streams!
The cradle of the rocking waves
Is worth a world of dreams!
Sleep by thy drowsy streams!
The cradle of the rocking waves
Is worth a world of dreams!
O living love, my happy hills
Be wheresoe'er thou art!
There is no help for human ills
But in the human heart;
Be wheresoe'er thou art!
There is no help for human ills
But in the human heart;
So be the haven near or far,
Blow winds and freshen sea,
The morrow's hope, the morning star,
The living world for me!
Blow winds and freshen sea,
The morrow's hope, the morning star,
The living world for me!
| The violet crown by Sir Rennell Rodd | |