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The crew laid by their cups, and frowned.
A stern rebuke the leader gave.
With arrowy speed the ship went round
Nymphæum. To the ocean-wave
The mountain-forest sloped, and cast
O'er the white surf its massy shade.
They heard, so near the shore they past,

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The hollow sound the sea-breeze made,
As those primæval trees it swayed.
—“Curse on thy songs!”—the leader cried,—
“False tales of evil augury!”—
—“Well hast thou said,”—the maid replied,—
“They augur ill to thine and thee.”—
She rose, and loosed her radiant hair,
And raised her golden lyre in air.
The lyre, beneath the breeze's wings,
As if a spirit swept the strings,
Breathed airy music, sweet and strange,
In many a wild phantastic change.
Most like a daughter of the Sun

The children of the Sun were known by the splendor of their eyes and hair. Πασα γαρ ηελιου γενεη αριδηλος ιδεσθαι Ηεν: επει βλεφαρων αποτηλοθι, μαρμαρυγησιν Οιον εκ χρυσεων αντωπιον ιεσαν αιγλην. Apollonius, IV. 727. And in the Orphic Argonautics Circe is thus described:—εκ δ'αρα παντες Θαμβεον εισοροωντες: απο κρατος γαρ εθειραι Πυρσαις ακτινεσσιν αλιγκιοι ηωρηντο: Στιλβε δε καλα προσωπα, φλογος δ'απελαμπεν αυτμη.


She stood: her eyes all radiant shone
With beams unutterably bright;
And her long tresses, loose and light,
As on the playful breeze they rolled,
Flamed with rays of burning gold.
His wondering eyes Anthemion raised
Upon the maid: the seamen gazed
In fear and strange suspense, amazed.
From the forest-depths profound
Breathes a low and sullen sound:
'Tis the woodland spirit's sigh,
Ever heard when storms are nigh.
On the shore the surf that breaks
With the rising breezes makes
More tumultuous harmony.
Louder yet the breezes sing:
Round and round, in dizzy ring,
Sea-birds scream on restless wing:

59

Pine and cedar creak and swing
To the sea-blast's murmuring.
Far and wide on sand and shingle
Eddying breakers boil and mingle:
Beetling cliff and caverned rock
Roll around the echoing shock,
Where the spray, like snow-dust whirled,
High in vapory wreaths is hurled.
Clouds on clouds, in volumes driven,
Curtain round the vault of heaven.
—“To shore! to shore!”—the seamen cry.
The damsel waved her lyre on high,
And to the powers that rule the sea
It whispered notes of witchery.
Swifter than the lightning-flame
The sudden breath of the whirlwind came.
Round at once in its mighty sweep
The vessel whirled on the whirling deep.
Right from shore the driving gale
Bends the mast and swells the sail:
Loud the foaming ocean raves:
Through the mighty waste of waves
Speeds the vessel swift and free,
Like a meteor of the sea.
Day is ended. Darkness shrouds
The shoreless seas and lowering clouds.
Northward now the tempest blows:
Fast and far the vessel goes:
Crouched on deck the seamen lie;
One and all, with charmed eye,
On the magic maid they gaze:

60

Nor the youth with less amaze
Looks upon her radiant form
Shining by the golden beams
Of her refulgent hair, that streams
Like waving star-light on the storm;
And hears the vocal blast that rings
Among her lyre's enchanted strings.
Onward, onward flies the bark,
Through the billows wild and dark.
From her prow the spray she hurls;
O'er her stern the big wave curls;
Fast before the impetuous wind
She flies—the wave bursts far behind.
Onward, onward flies the bark,
Through the raging billows:—Hark!
'Tis the stormy surge's roar
On the Ægean's northern shore.
Tow'rds the rocks, through surf and surge,
The destined ship the wild winds urge.
High on one gigantic wave
She swings in air. From rock and cave
A long loud wail of fate and fear
Rings in the hopeless seaman's ear.
Forward, with the breaker's dash,
She plunges on the rock. The crash
Of the dividing bark, the roar
Of waters bursting on the deck,
Are in Anthemion's ear: no more
He hears or sees: but round his neck
Are closely twined the silken rings
Of Rhododaphne's glittering hair,

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And round him her bright arms she flings,
And cinctured thus in loveliest bands
The charmed waves in safety bear
The youth and the enchantress fair,
And leave them on the golden sands.