The works of Mrs. Hemans With a memoir of her life, by her sister. In seven volumes |
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NAPLES.
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 | The works of Mrs. Hemans |  |
321
NAPLES.
A SONG OF THE SYREN.
“Then gentle winds arose,
With many a mingled close
Of wild Æolian sound and mountain odour keen;
Where the clear Baian ocean
Welters with air-like motion
Within, above, around its bowers of starry green.”
Shelley.
With many a mingled close
Of wild Æolian sound and mountain odour keen;
Where the clear Baian ocean
Welters with air-like motion
Within, above, around its bowers of starry green.”
Shelley.
Still is the Syren warbling on thy shore,
Bright city of the waves!—her magic song
Still with a dreamy sense of ecstasy
Fills thy soft Summer air:—and while my glance
Dwells on thy pictured loveliness, that lay
Floats thus o'er fancy's ear; and thus to thee,
Daughter of sunshine! doth the Syren sing.
Bright city of the waves!—her magic song
Still with a dreamy sense of ecstasy
Fills thy soft Summer air:—and while my glance
Dwells on thy pictured loveliness, that lay
Floats thus o'er fancy's ear; and thus to thee,
Daughter of sunshine! doth the Syren sing.
“Thine is the glad wave's flashing play,
Thine is the laugh of the golden day,
The golden day, and the glorious night,
And the vine with its clusters all bathed in light!
—Forget, forget, that thou art not free!
Queen of the Summer sea.
Thine is the laugh of the golden day,
The golden day, and the glorious night,
And the vine with its clusters all bathed in light!
—Forget, forget, that thou art not free!
Queen of the Summer sea.
“Favour'd and crown'd of the earth and sky!
Thine are all voices of melody,
Wandering in moonlight through fane and tower,
Floating o'er fountain and myrtle bower;
Hark! how they melt o'er thy glittering sea;
—Forget that thou art not free!
Thine are all voices of melody,
Wandering in moonlight through fane and tower,
Floating o'er fountain and myrtle bower;
Hark! how they melt o'er thy glittering sea;
—Forget that thou art not free!
“Let the wine flow in thy marble halls!
Let the lute answer thy fountain falls!
And deck thy feasts with the myrtle bough,
And cover with roses thy glowing brow!
Queen of the day and the summer sea,
Forget that thou art not free!”
Let the lute answer thy fountain falls!
322
And cover with roses thy glowing brow!
Queen of the day and the summer sea,
Forget that thou art not free!”
So doth the Syren sing, while sparkling waves
Dance to her chant. But sternly, mournfully,
O city of the deep! from Sybil grots
And Roman tombs, the echoes of thy shore
Take up the cadence of her strain alone,
Murmuring—Thou art not free!”
Dance to her chant. But sternly, mournfully,
O city of the deep! from Sybil grots
And Roman tombs, the echoes of thy shore
Take up the cadence of her strain alone,
Murmuring—Thou art not free!”
| The works of Mrs. Hemans | |