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The Christian Scholar

By the Author of "The Cathedral" [i.e. Isaac Williams]

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VII. WARNING AGAINST THE SIRENS.
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138

VII. WARNING AGAINST THE SIRENS.

[_]

Od., b. xii. 36.

“Then Circe spake, dread Goddess, ‘These things o'er
Another coming peril shalt thou find;
Hear thou my words, the warnings given before
The God shall in their season bring to mind;—
The Sirens next waft death upon the wind;
Whoe'er unconscious shall approach their shore,
And hear their voice, for him those left behind,
His wife and children hastening to the door,
Shall gathering stand around and welcome home no more.
“‘Charming the air with their melodious strains,
The Sirens sit within a flowery mead,
With bones heap'd round of the unburied slain:
That thine own comrades may not hear nor heed,
Stop thou each ear with wax, and swift proceed;
They to the mast must bind thee foot and hand;
And if from these thou strugglest to be freed,
Bind more and more and double every band,
Till thou hast ceased to hear the fatal-pleasing strand.’”

139

SONG OF THE SIRENS.

Od., b. xii. 166, 181
“Then swiftly went toward the Sirenian Isle
The full-wing'd bark, and harmless breezes play'd,
When suddenly they sank, and scarce a smile
Ruffled the main, a God the billow stay'd;
The sea-men then arose, and furling, laid
The sails aside, themselves they sat along,
The seas all whitening with the oary blade;
Then near we drew as sounds a human tongue,
They knew of the approach, and thus began the song.
“‘Stay, stay thy course, O thou of Greece the boast,
Much-prais'd Ulysses! stay thy ship, draw near,
For never yet hath mortal pass'd our coast
But first he stops our honied voice to hear.
Hence he departs with song-delighted ear,
And heart with knowledge fraught to make him wise.
All things we know of Ilium, all that there
The brave endured by will of deities,
We know whate'er may be beneath the circling skies.’”

140

ON THE FOREGOING.

And is there then a song the wise can charm,—
The man of many counsels, school'd in woes?
Can all his better soul at length disarm,
Who rose superior o'er so many foes,
With Circe and Calypso scorns repose?
What is that strain so subtle to the soul
That he who listens, till himself he lose
Will listen, though he 'scap'd th' enchanted bowl—
Sounds that from wisdom win her hard-earn'd selfcontrol?
Surely that song is with the promise stored
Which our first parents heard in Paradise,
Whereby the wisest fell, Creation's lord,
The pride that flatters man with honied lies;
And with the fatal promise to be wise;—
“Glorious thou art and prais'd,” the Siren saith,
Then comes that curiosity that dies
In knowing good and evil, which is death:
The Faith which stops her ears alone draws vital breath.