XXIII.

He turns, and lo! on either side

The ripples on his path divide;

And the track o'er which his boat must pass

Is smooth as a sheet of polished glass.

Around, their limbs the sea-nymphs lave,

With snowy arms half swelling out,

While on the glossed and gleamy wave

Their sea-green ringlets loosely float;

They swim around with smile and song;

They press the bark with pearly hand,

And gently urge her course along,

Toward the beach of speckled sand;

And, as he lightly leapt to land,

They bade adieu with nod and bow,

Then gayly kissed each little hand,

And dropped in the crystal deep below.

The Culprit Fay, and Other Poems · 第 26 / 86 题