Classic Poem

Not with ware of worth unladen,
Sailed my bark in days of yore,
When, seafarer bound for Aidenn,
By the singing siren-maiden
Tempted, I forsook the shore.

Waning day departed, wailing
Wild with rush of wind and rain;
Stress of storm and surge prevailing
Scourged the skiff and marred the sailing;
So to port we sped amain.

Much I mused, misdoubting whether
More to fare on fickle sea;
Sunny blaze and sullen weather,
Breath of breeze and blast together,
Chain as charm had woven for me.

But pure heaven with shadeless pleasure
Smiles upon the moving blue;
And the waves dance merry measure;
And my boat stores novel treasure;
And the Siren sings anew.

Trustful, then, in Powers presiding
O'er the chance of changeful main;
Wave from buoyant wave dividing,
Lightly with a heart confiding,
Launch the little bark again!