Classic Poem

By the side of me—the immortal Pan—
Lies the sweetest thing of the sea;
In her gown of brine,
With her breast to mine,
And her drowned dark hair lies she!

But her smile—like the wine-red, shadowy sea,
When the day slides on and down—
By the gods, it is tender death to me!
In its waters dark I drown!
“O slave of mine! Thou mystery
Of smiling depths—I drown!”