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SYREN SONGS.
I. THE TEMPTATION.
O step and try how along the smooth ocean
As safe as the wild-bird thou'lt wander to me,—
O step and feel how supreme the emotion
To tread like an elve the green ooze of the sea.
As safe as the wild-bird thou'lt wander to me,—
O step and feel how supreme the emotion
To tread like an elve the green ooze of the sea.
Come and behold the wide deep in its splendour,
While bright shines the path from the sun to the shore—
Come while the waves their wild freedom surrender,
And humble their proud necks for thee to step o'er.
While bright shines the path from the sun to the shore—
Come while the waves their wild freedom surrender,
And humble their proud necks for thee to step o'er.
Firm is the flood to thy foot, and as fleetly
As wind shalt thou waft on its bosom secure!
Come while the blue sky is beaming so sweetly,
And air is so balmy, and light is so pure!
As wind shalt thou waft on its bosom secure!
Come while the blue sky is beaming so sweetly,
And air is so balmy, and light is so pure!
81
Hymns of soft triumph all day shall attend thee
Where'er be thy spirit's young fancy to roam!
Bow'rs of red coral at eve overbend thee
To shade thee in slumber from night dew and foam!
Where'er be thy spirit's young fancy to roam!
Bow'rs of red coral at eve overbend thee
To shade thee in slumber from night dew and foam!
Step then and try how along the broad level
Thou'lt follow the Sun to his cave in the deep!
O step, and join at his red evening revel
The loud liquid chorus that lulls him to sleep!
Thou'lt follow the Sun to his cave in the deep!
O step, and join at his red evening revel
The loud liquid chorus that lulls him to sleep!
Thee, thee will I lull with sea-ditties so tender,
The bee cannot murmur as soft to the rose!
With my bright golden harp, gentle Youth, I will render
Thy slumbers as calm as an angel's repose.
The bee cannot murmur as soft to the rose!
With my bright golden harp, gentle Youth, I will render
Thy slumbers as calm as an angel's repose.
Step then, oh step! and we'll tread a wild measure
As far as the sunbeams lie smooth on the main!
Oh step and try if so thrilling a pleasure
Will ne'er tempt thee o'er the bright waters again.
As far as the sunbeams lie smooth on the main!
Oh step and try if so thrilling a pleasure
Will ne'er tempt thee o'er the bright waters again.
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II. THE PREVAILMENT.
Listen, Youth! oh listen, listen
To my dittying lyre and song!
She whose eyes so gently glisten
Cannot will thee wrong!
O that unto thee as me
Deep dominion of the sea
Did, sweet youth, belong!
To my dittying lyre and song!
She whose eyes so gently glisten
Cannot will thee wrong!
O that unto thee as me
Deep dominion of the sea
Did, sweet youth, belong!
'Neath the sea there is no sorrow—
Love the only pain we know!
Jocund night brings joyful morrow
To the bowers below!
At the green foot of this well
Is my glassy bower and cell—
Will the Mortal go?
Love the only pain we know!
Jocund night brings joyful morrow
To the bowers below!
At the green foot of this well
Is my glassy bower and cell—
Will the Mortal go?
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I will give thee green shell-armour,
Crystal spear and helm of gold;
Sword of proof against the charmer,
Like a Knight of old!
Thou shalt in a chariot brave
Roam the deep and ride the wave—
Dar'st thou be so bold?
Crystal spear and helm of gold;
Sword of proof against the charmer,
Like a Knight of old!
Thou shalt in a chariot brave
Roam the deep and ride the wave—
Dar'st thou be so bold?
O'er the wan-blue waters sliding
What proud pleasure it will be
Thy wild ocean coursers guiding
To control the sea!
Down the rocky ladder steep
Winding to the monstrous deep,
Come, oh come with me!
What proud pleasure it will be
Thy wild ocean coursers guiding
To control the sea!
Down the rocky ladder steep
Winding to the monstrous deep,
Come, oh come with me!
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Treasure past the power of telling
Richly shall the deed repay;
Come!—I hear the sea-caves knelling,
“Come, oh come away!”
Come and boast thee to have been
Wanderer of the sea-bed green,
Till thy dying day.
Richly shall the deed repay;
Come!—I hear the sea-caves knelling,
“Come, oh come away!”
Come and boast thee to have been
Wanderer of the sea-bed green,
Till thy dying day.
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III. THE REVELLING.
Quaff, oh quaff the coral wine,
Prest in our sea-vintage yearly,
Every crimson-berried vine
Melts as lusciously and clearly!
Quaff, oh quaff the coral wine—
Bower and all within are thine!
Prest in our sea-vintage yearly,
Every crimson-berried vine
Melts as lusciously and clearly!
Quaff, oh quaff the coral wine—
Bower and all within are thine!
Lays of love and odes divine
I will sing, thy couch attending;
With the perfume of the wine
The sweet breath of music blending!
Quaff, oh quaff the coral wine—
Bower and all within are thine!
I will sing, thy couch attending;
With the perfume of the wine
The sweet breath of music blending!
Quaff, oh quaff the coral wine—
Bower and all within are thine!
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Thrilling soft this harp of mine,
Strewing boughs with coral laden,
Pouring high the crested wine,
I will be thy Bower-maiden.
Quaff, oh quaff the coral wine—
Bower and all within are thine.
Strewing boughs with coral laden,
Pouring high the crested wine,
I will be thy Bower-maiden.
Quaff, oh quaff the coral wine—
Bower and all within are thine.
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IV. THE LURING-ON.
When westering winds the ocean soothe,
Till calm as heaven's blue waste it be,
How sweet to glide from smooth to smooth,
Like halcyons o'er the violet sea!
Till calm as heaven's blue waste it be,
How sweet to glide from smooth to smooth,
Like halcyons o'er the violet sea!
How brave to tread the glistening sands
That lie in amber wreaths below,
The twisted toil of faëry hands,
Condemned to swarth them to and fro!
That lie in amber wreaths below,
The twisted toil of faëry hands,
Condemned to swarth them to and fro!
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My bright harp with its golden tongue
Speaks sweetly through the lucid wave,
And says its chords need scarce be rung,
While floods so soft its bosom lave!
Speaks sweetly through the lucid wave,
And says its chords need scarce be rung,
While floods so soft its bosom lave!
Broad-handed Ocean aye will beat
In varying mood this harp of mine,—
So think not, if it sound less sweet,
The fearful melody is mine.
In varying mood this harp of mine,—
So think not, if it sound less sweet,
The fearful melody is mine.
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V. THE SEA-RITUAL.
Prayer unsaid and mass unsung,
Deadman's dirge must still be rung:
Dingle-dong, the dead-bells sound;
Mermen chant his dirge around.
Deadman's dirge must still be rung:
Dingle-dong, the dead-bells sound;
Mermen chant his dirge around.
Wash him bloodless, smoothe him fair,
Stretch his limbs and sleek his hair:
Dingle-dong, the dead-bells go;
Mermen swing them to and fro!
Stretch his limbs and sleek his hair:
Dingle-dong, the dead-bells go;
Mermen swing them to and fro!
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In the wormless sands shall he
Feast for no foul gluttons be:
Dingle-dong, the dead-bells toll;
Mermen ring his requiem-knoll!
Feast for no foul gluttons be:
Dingle-dong, the dead-bells toll;
Mermen ring his requiem-knoll!
We must with a tombstone brave
Shut the shark out of his grave:
Dingle-dong, the dead-bells chime;
Mermen keep the tune and time!
Shut the shark out of his grave:
Dingle-dong, the dead-bells chime;
Mermen keep the tune and time!
Such a slab will we lay o'er him,
All the dead shall rise before him:
Dingle-dong, the dead-bells boom;
Mermen lay him in his tomb!
All the dead shall rise before him:
Dingle-dong, the dead-bells boom;
Mermen lay him in his tomb!
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VI. THE MERMAIDEN'S VESPER HYMN.
Troop home to silent grots and caves!
Troop home, and mimic as you go
The mournful winding of the waves,
Which to their dark abysses flow!
Troop home, and mimic as you go
The mournful winding of the waves,
Which to their dark abysses flow!
At this sweet hour all things beside
In amorous pairs to covert creep:
The swans that brush the evening tide,
Homeward in snowy couples keep.
In amorous pairs to covert creep:
The swans that brush the evening tide,
Homeward in snowy couples keep.
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In his green den the murmuring seal
Close by his sleek companion lies;
While singly we to bedward steal,
And close in fruitless sleep our eyes.
Close by his sleek companion lies;
While singly we to bedward steal,
And close in fruitless sleep our eyes.
In bowers of love men take their rest,
In loveless bowers we sigh alone,—
With bosom-friends are others blest,
But we have none! but we have none!
In loveless bowers we sigh alone,—
With bosom-friends are others blest,
But we have none! but we have none!
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