THE waters rush'd, the waters rose, A fisherman sat by, While on his line in calm repose He cast his patient eye. And as he sat, and hearken'd there, The flood was cleft in twain, And, lo! a dripping mermaid fair Sprang from the troubled main. She sang to him, and spake the while: "Why lurest thou my brood, With human wit and human guile From out their native flood? Oh, couldst thou know how gladly dart The fish across the sea, Thou wouldst descend, e'en as thou art, And truly happy be! Do not the sun and moon with grace Their forms in ocean lave? Shines not with twofold charms their face, When rising from the wave? The deep, deep heavens, then lure thee not,— The moist yet radiant blue,— Not thine own form,—to tempt thy lot 'Midst this eternal dew?" The waters rush'd, the waters rose, Wetting his naked feet; As if his true love's words were those, His heart with longing beat. She sang to him, to him spake she, His doom was fix'd, I ween; Half drew she him, and half sank he, And ne'er again was seen. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MAPLE AND SUMACH by CECIL DAY LEWIS DISCONTENTS IN DEVON by ROBERT HERRICK VERSES, OCCASIONED BY AN AFFECTING INSTANCE OF SUDDEN DEATH by BERNARD BARTON CEDARS OF LEBANON AT WARWICK CASTLE by MATHILDE BLIND WHAT'S IN A NAME by BERTON BRALEY LINES ON AN INTERVIEW WITH LORD DAER by ROBERT BURNS SPRING FANTASIES: 6. AS FLUTES OF ARCADY by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON AN EXPOSTULATION WITH A SECTARIST, WHO INVEIGHED AGAINST THE CLERGY by JOHN BYROM |