YONDER we see it from the steamer's deck, The haunted Mountain of the Lorelei-- The o'erhanging crags sharp-cut against a sky Clear as a sapphire without flaw or fleck. 'T was here the Siren lay in wait to wreck The fisher-lad. At dusk, as he passed by, Perchance he'd hear her tender amorous sigh, And, seeing the wondrous whiteness of her neck, Perchance would halt, and lean towards the shore; Then she by that soft magic which she had Would lure him, and in gossamers of her hair, Gold upon gold, would wrap him o'er and o'er, Wrap him, and sing to him, and set him mad, Then drag him down to no man knoweth where. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A THOUGHT by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES THE PAST by RALPH WALDO EMERSON NATHAN HALE [SEPTEMBER 22, 1776] by FRANCIS MILES FINCH THE QUESTION by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY TO WALTER LIONEL DE ROTHSCHILD ON HIS BAR-MITZVAH by LOUIS BARNETT ABRAHAMS BLUE HOURS: 1. CLOUD-HORSE by RICK BAROT |