Classic Poem

Spectral , and wrapped in fleecy mist
The Isles of the Sirens lay,
'Twixt a sea of emerald and amethyst,
And clouds that were opal and gray.

And Tragara looked from out the blue
And lifted her ancient head
To see the course of the toiling crew
As on the sailors sped.

For a galleon hold the islands seemed,
Pointed straight out to sea
To sail a sea that the poet dreamed,
Which tugged at her chains to be free.

Yet forever chained the islands lie,
No galleon mate they find;
So the sirens are luring ceaselessly,
Their song fills the breath of the wind.

Ulysses heard that siren song,
And sailed by, bound to his mast,
And down to us through the centuries long
It sounds ever new from the past.

The wail of the sea, the sigh of the wind,
The vastness of man's desires,
The thoughts too wide for the human mind,
These feed the song's quick fires.

And the islands shift in the moving light,
And sway with the song's increase,
As a galleon tugs with all her might
And longs for a glad release.

And the song is sung as of old to-day
And tries each human soul;
Tragara stands calm on her headland gray,
And the deep sea holds the whole.