Classic Poem

Just at the harbor's mouth she stood;
Behind her was the beacon white,
Which sends its kindly warning forth
From evening shade till morning light.

Above her was the golden sun;
More golden shone her tossing hair;
The ocean's azure, at her feet,
With her blue eyes could not compare.

Full sheer the cliff whereon she stood,
And, though her eyes were downward cast,
I still could row my boat anear
And see their glory as I passed.

Patiently there she watched her line,
That sank among the golden weed.
" Who would not be a fish, " thought I,
" By such sweet hands if doomed to bleed? "

Sweet hands, but browner than the rock
Whereon her pretty feet had place;
Which, browner yet, laid hold of it
With naked purity and grace.

One day I dared to speak to her:
" What have you caught to-day, my dear? "
" Nothing but just a thought or two;
More thoughts than fish come swimming here. "

" And have you caught this thought, my dear,
That I love you and you love me? "
I dared not speak the question out;
Such joy as that might never be.

So every day I pass her by,
But cannot bring my lips to say:
" My heart is caught upon your hook,
And cannot tear itself away. "

Why should I speak? She would not slip
From off the rocks into my boat,
And say, " As thus for evermore
Let us together sit and float. "

She would not love, — 'tis not her time;
But naught that she can do or say
Can rob me of my right divine
To love and worship her alway.

O maiden at the harbor's mouth!
By day, with their distracting light,
Your eyes will wreck more venturous hearts
Than ever beacon saved by night.