Classic Poem

There came a fair mariner over the lake;
Her name — not to leave you in wonder —
Tho', of course, she's unknown to you, yet for the sake
Of the story, we'll call her Bionda.

Away flew the skiff, like a bird o'er the flood —
'Twas May — all serene and enchanting —
And, tingling with ecstasy, bounds the bright blood,
What more can our mermaid be wanting?

But maidens will always be asking for more;
" How much finer 'twould be" (she bethought her)
" If a storm would but come; there's no fun on the shore,
Like a dance on the floor of the water!"

'Twas said and 'twas done! From the far southern sky
Came a tempest on raven-black pinions;
The billows danced high , and the vessel was nigh
To be sunk in old Neptune's dominions.

With tears in her eyes, now, how wildly she cries:
" No more dancing, I pray! O thou sternest
Of Gods, bid thy waters come back from the skies!
Who takes a poor girl so in earnest?

" Save! spare me, O Jove! bring me safely to shore,
And I swear by the sun up yonder,
He never shall see me dance any more!"
What mightier oath could have bound her?

And the face of heaven laid by its frown,
And the sea was as smooth as a pillow,
And the moon came up, as the sun went down,
And glanced on the mirroring billow.

And soon the vessel had made the land,
Where windows were cheerfully glancing;
And there, by moonlight, along the strand,
Young fishers and maidens were dancing.

And Bionda, she stood there with thoughtful look,
As the lads and the lasses went tripping,
And, all her ten toes, each on its own hook,
In her shoes they were secretly skipping.

But she, abstracted in thought profound,
As listening the monitor's warning,
Looked sea-ward round o'er her shoulders and frowned,
As she thought of the vow of the morning.

And still her conscience held fast and strong,
Though speakingly twanged the fiddle; —
But, ah! the temptation lasts too long,
And boldly she springs in the middle.

And down she flies along the line,
Through the midst of the garlands and glances,
While the magnificent May moon-shine
Besilvers the intricate dances.

Then a voice calls from Heaven, " Woe, woe on thee,
Bionda, what, what hast thou broken!
Remember the dangerous dance on the sea!
What oath to the sun hast thou spoken?

" Bionda! Bionda! you've broken your vow!"
" What vow," she replies, " have I broken?
The sun is in America now —
And no oath to the moon have I spoken."

Bionda came back to her cottage again —
The tempest had rent it asunder —
Grief's cloud from her eyes broke in tears like rain,
And the whisper of conscience was thunder.

" Ah," cried she, " how poorly this dancing pays,
The next time shall find this girl older;
Sure the sun had behind yonder moon hid his blaze,
And peeped at me over her shoulder!"