There is a Siren in the middle sea Sings all day long and wreathes her pallid hair. Seven years you sail, and seven, ceaselessly, From any port ere you adventure there. Thither we'll go, and thither sail away Out of the world, to hear the Siren play! Thither we'll go and hide among her tresses, Since all the world is savage wildernesses. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 112. GIBRALTAR by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT TO THE EARL OF WARWICK ON THE DEATH OF MR. ADDISON by THOMAS TICKELL FRAGMENTS INTENDED FOR DEATH'S JEST-BOOK: A NIGHT-SCENE by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES LINES; TO ONE WHO WISHED TO READ A POEM I HAD WRITTEN by ANNE CHARLOTTE LYNCH BOTTA RANCH WOMAN by MARGARET CARROLL BRADY THE WANDERER: 3. IN ENGLAND: 'CARPE DIEM' by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON EPISTLE TO ROBERT GRAHAM OF FINTRY, REQUESTING A FAVOR by ROBERT BURNS TO SIR ASTON COCKAYNE ON CAPTAIN HANNIBALL; EPIGRAM by CHARLES COTTON |