Oh, to see in the night in a May moon's light A nymph from siren caves, With a crown of pearl, sea-gems in each curl Dance down white, star-stained waves! Oh, to list in the gloam by the pearly foam Of a sad, far-sounding shore The strain of the shell of an ocean belle From caves where the waters roar! With a hollow shell drift up in the moon To sigh in my ears this ocean tune:--
"Wilt follow, wilt follow to caverns hollow, That echo the tumbling spry? Wilt follow thy queen to islands green, Vague islands of witchery? O follow, follow to grottoes hollow, And isles in a purple sea, Where rich roses twine and the lush woodbine Weaves a musky canopy!"
Oh, to float in the gloam on the bubbly foam With her lily face above! Oh, to lie in a barque and a wild song hark, And a billow-nymph to love! I'd lie at her feet and my heart should beat To the music of her sighs; But the stars in her face my passion should trace, Unseen all the stars of the skies.
Away, away with the witch of spray To her Aidenn islands far; And the blue above, drunk-mad with love, Dance down each singing star. Leave, leave to the heaven its morning star In a cloud of bolted snow, To laugh at the world and herald far Our wedlock and joy below.
The night is hung above us, love, With heavy stars that love us, love, With clouds that curl in purple and pearl, And winds that whisper of us, love: On burly hills and valleys, that lie dimmer, The amber foot-falls of the moon-sylphs glimmer.
The moon is still a crescent, love; And here with thee 'tis pleasant, love, To sit and dream in its thin gleam, And list thy sighs liquescent, love: To see thy eyes and fondle thy dark tresses, Set on warm lips imperishable kisses.
The sudden-glaring fire-flies Swim o'er the hollow gyre-wise, And spurt and shine like jostled wine At lips on which desire lies: Or like the out-flashed hair of elf or fairy In rapid morrice whirling feat and airy.
Up,--all the blue West sundering,-- A creamy cloud comes blundering O'er star and steep, and opening deep Grows gold with silent thundering: Gold flooding crystal crags immeasurable, Lost Avalons of old Romance and Fable.
The bee dreams in the cherry bloom That sways above the berry bloom; The katydid grates where she's hid In leafy deeps of dreary gloom: The forming dew is globing on the grasses, Like rich spilled gems of some dark queen that passes.