Classic Poem

PART II.

The sun sank down behind the sea,
The evening-star shone soon,
And o'er the eastern hill-top trees
Up rose the round red moon.

There sat a youthful Fisherman,
Upon a rock saThe,
The salt tears trickled down his face,
And fell into the sea.

Ere morning dawn he took his seat
To throw the baited hook:
But listless o'er the rock he leant
Forgetful of his first intent;

And there he sat till eventide,
His rod still idle by his side,
Nor any fish he took.

But ever and anon the tears
Were streaming from his eyes,
And sobs were bursting from his breast,
And deep-drawn heavy sighs.

Oft-time he moaned, and moved his lips
In motion still the same,
And ofThe murmured o'er, in tears,
Some well-beloved name.

All yesternight his weary feet
The church-yard grass had trod;
A new-made grave lies under the yews —
Who sleeps beneath the sod?

From the west waves where the sun went down,
Over the blushing deep
A rosy mist comes rolling on,
With slow majestic sweep.

And from the mist afar, soft sounds
Of music sweet are heard,
Half like a vocal summer-wind,
Half like a warbling bird.

Slow winding through the mist, along
The shore the cadence rung;
The Fisherman listened, and this was the song
The gentle mermaids sung:

Mermaids' Song.

" O COME with me, young Fisherman!
My pearl-boat waits for thee;
The Mary sleeps with me afar,
Beyond the deep green sea;
In the Mermaid Isle, the charmed isle,
Far, far beyond the moon-lit sea!

" She's sleeping in her beauty-bower,
And waiting there for thee;
O come with me, young Fisherman,
Beyond the deep green sea;
To the Mermaid Isle, the charmed isle,
Far, far beyond the moon-lit sea! "

In long-drawn plaintive notes the song
Over the waters stole;
The floating melody it sank
Like hope into his soul.

The rosy mist rolled slowly on,
Wide spreading more and more;
Till it circled round the Fisherman
As he lay on the shore.

The pearl-boat touched the rock. He saw
Three faces round the prow,
And, peering through the rosy mist,
Dim shone each moony brow.

He heard the nearing music well
Its witching invitation tell,
And heaving with its hidden spell
He saw each snowy bosom swell,
Saw curved each warbling throat:
And while he listened to the song,
He slid into the boat.

Then over his head up rose the mist,
Hiding the silver moon:
But another light, more softly bright,
Relieved the darkness soon.

Moon-rainbows shone about the boat,
Changeful as sparkling foam;
Circle on circle round they rose,
And formed an arching dome.

They flitted and twined around each other,
Like the flashes of northern light;
And the dome, mast-high, sailed over the boat,
Above and around, though it touched it not:
It was a wondrous sight!

Under the dome, on the circled tide,
With tints reflected, multiplied,
The dancing colors played;
It seemed the waving waters were
Of molten rainbows made.

Cleaving the many-tinted wave
The choral mermaids swam,
Still chanting slow in sweeter strain
Their charmed song — the while did reign
O'er the sea a brooding calm.

Without a sail, or an oar, or a helm,
How fast the boat did fly!
Yet the waves were silent before its prow,
And the air it breathed not on his brow
As he passed it swiftly by!

A pilot there was below the wave,
A pilot below the keel;
He spun through the sea like a bird through the air
And the light pearl-boat on his back he bare;
Nor breath nor motion, in air or ocean,
The Fisherman could feel.