A woman, mystic, sweet,
Whose beauty draws my soul,
Stands silent where the fleet
And singing waters roll.
Her eyes, the mirrored note
Of heaven, merge heaven's blue
Bestarred of lights remote,
With the sea's glaucous hue.
Within their languor set,
Smiles sadness infinite.
Tears make the sparkles wet,
And tender grows the light.
Like sea-gulls from aloft
That graze the ocean free,
Her lashes flutter soft
Upon an azure sea.
As slumbering treasures drowned
Send shimmers lightly up,
Gleams through the tide profound
The King of Thule's cup.
Athwart the weedy swirl
Brilliant, the waves upon,
Shine Cleopatra's pearl,
And ring of Solomon.
The crown to ocean cast,
That Schiller showed to us,
Still under sea caught fast,
Beams clear and luminous.
A magic in that gaze
Draws me, mad venturer!
Thus mermaid's magic ways
Drew Harold Haarfager.
And all my soul unquelled
Adown the gulf betrayed
Dives, to the quest impelled
Of some elusive shade.
The siren fitfully
Displays her body's gleam,
Her breast and arms that ply
Through waves of amorous dream.
The water heaves and falls,
Like breasts with passion's breath.
The breeze insistent calls
To me, and murmureth:
_"Come to my pearly bed!
My ocean arms shall slip
About thee: salt shall spread
To honey on thy lip!_
_Oh, let the billows link
Above us! Thou shalt, warm,
From cup of kisses drink
Oblivion of the storm!"_
Thus sighs the glance that sweeps
From out those sea-blue gates,
Till heart down treacherous deeps
The hymen consummates.