Lotus and Jewel Containing "In an Indian Temple", "A Casket of Gems", "A Queen's Revenge": With Other Poems: By Edwin Arnold |
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The Depths of the Sea.
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 | Lotus and Jewel |  |
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The Depths of the Sea.
Which is the one we must pity, Master?
Who is infelix—the boy, or she
Drawing him down from his barque's disaster
To the pebbled floor of her silvery sea?
With light keen laughter drawing him down;
Gleeful to clasp him—her mariner brown—
Heedless of life-breath, which bubbles upward,
So the fair strong body her own may be.
Who is infelix—the boy, or she
Drawing him down from his barque's disaster
To the pebbled floor of her silvery sea?
With light keen laughter drawing him down;
Gleeful to clasp him—her mariner brown—
Heedless of life-breath, which bubbles upward,
So the fair strong body her own may be.
Who was the one that longed too madly
To have the wish—and is sorry to have?
Do you mean your sailor faced over-gladly
The toils of the bitter and treacherous wave;
The depths which charm, the danger which pleases,
The death that tempts man's spirit, and teases;
And now he has won it, his prize of daring,
Dragged to the cold sea-maiden's cave?
To have the wish—and is sorry to have?
Do you mean your sailor faced over-gladly
The toils of the bitter and treacherous wave;
The depths which charm, the danger which pleases,
The death that tempts man's spirit, and teases;
And now he has won it, his prize of daring,
Dragged to the cold sea-maiden's cave?
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Or was it she, the Merman's Daughter,—
Half soft white woman, half glittering scales—
Who, sporting by starlight upon the water,
Saw him, and passioned—and so prevails;
Sent the gale, or the mountainous billow,
To wash him down to the oozy pillow
Where night and day, she will lull her lover,
'Mid whispering sea-shells, and green sea-dales?
Half soft white woman, half glittering scales—
Who, sporting by starlight upon the water,
Saw him, and passioned—and so prevails;
Sent the gale, or the mountainous billow,
To wash him down to the oozy pillow
Where night and day, she will lull her lover,
'Mid whispering sea-shells, and green sea-dales?
And she is to find—poor Child of ocean,
His mouth set fast, and his blue eyes dim;
And lips, and limbs, and hands sans motion,
And sweet love dumb in the breast of him;
And her own wild heart will break to know
Men cannot breathe in her Blue below,
Nor mermaidens come to the Blue of his Heaven;
Is that your moral, my Painter grim?
His mouth set fast, and his blue eyes dim;
And lips, and limbs, and hands sans motion,
And sweet love dumb in the breast of him;
And her own wild heart will break to know
Men cannot breathe in her Blue below,
Nor mermaidens come to the Blue of his Heaven;
Is that your moral, my Painter grim?
Say, rather:“terque quaterque felices!”
Fortunate, both of them, winning their will!
If you paint the deep grey Sea's abysses
Dare also to plunge to the depths of Ill!
For Peace broods under the rough waves' riot,
And beyond dark Death is delightful quiet;
And once to have loved is good for the Sea-girl,
And once to have died is better still!
Fortunate, both of them, winning their will!
If you paint the deep grey Sea's abysses
Dare also to plunge to the depths of Ill!
For Peace broods under the rough waves' riot,
And beyond dark Death is delightful quiet;
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And once to have died is better still!
I call them happy—yea, “three and more times,”
She hath her Boy; he hath his rest;
And to finish love and life beforetimes
For Sailor and Mermaid is—may be—best,
I think she feels, by her subtle laughter,
That to clasp him was good, whatever comes after;
And what should a weary mariner wish for
Better than sleep by Love caressed?
She hath her Boy; he hath his rest;
And to finish love and life beforetimes
For Sailor and Mermaid is—may be—best,
I think she feels, by her subtle laughter,
That to clasp him was good, whatever comes after;
And what should a weary mariner wish for
Better than sleep by Love caressed?
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