Classic Poem

" My voice is sweeter than the lute,
My form is passing fair,
My lips are like the scarlet fruit
The coral branches bear.

" My teeth are whiter than the pearls
Men seek beneath the brine,
And when I shake my dripping curls
Far brighter jewels shine;

" My russet curls, whose golden tips
Half hide a breast that swells
As pink and pearly as the lips
That laugh on spike-back'd shells;

" My eyes reflect the glimmer cast
When seas lie calm and deep,
Where, under rotting spar and mast,
The silent sailors sleep.

" Oft have I dragged them from the sands, —
They cannot make demur, —
And pull'd the gold rings from their hands:
They neither speak nor stir,

" So stark they lie! Yet one, alone,
Awoke to find me fair, —
(This harp is made of his breast-bone,
Its strings were once his hair!)

" A merry moon we pass'd, and more,
And then upon him came
Some wanton mem'ry of the shore,
He breathed a woman's name;

" Wherefore I made him sleep again,
So sound, he could not stir;
But first I suck'd his heart and brain,
Lest he should dream of her,

" Before he slept he spake strange words;
These were the words he said:
" Your song is blither than the birds",
Your lips are ripe and red,

" " Your breast is white, your eyes are blue,
Yet you cannot understand,
Or love your love as the maidens do
That live upon the land. "

" So, since, whene'er the sun is low,
And length'ning shadows fall,
And straying lovers come and go
Along the grey sea-wall,

" Amongst the rocks I crouch me down
To hear what they may say,
And learn this thing I have not known —
To love the land-girls' way!

" But oft I hear them moan and sigh,
And often weep for woe;
The summer nights are going by,
Yet this is all I know!

" So, mine must be the wiser way,
For all my sweetheart said!
I made far merrier than they
The moon that I was wed!

" And he was mine, — my very own!
I clasp'd him firm and fair! ...
(This harp is made of his breast-bone,
Its strings were once his hair!)"