Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE LORELY, by FRANCES RIDLEY HAVERGAL


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE LORELY, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Ah, where are the echoes of gladness
Last Line: Hath the sprite of the lorely done.
Subject(s): Lorelei


AH, where are the echoes of gladness
Which dwell in my listening mind?
What meaneth the whisper of sadness,
Like the moan of the autumn wind?

I am chained by an often told story,
Come down from the olden time
When fairydom saw its glory,
A haunting, saddening chime.

The air is still and darkling,
And silently flows the Rhine;
The mountain peaks are sparkling,
Where sunset rays yet shine.

A strangely beauteous maiden
Sits high on the grim rock there,
Her arms are with rich gems laden,
She combeth her golden hair.

With a golden comb she is combing,
And sings an enchanted song,
And wondrously through the gloaming
That melody floats along.

Then a wild weird sorrow amazeth
The boatman in gliding skiff,
While upward alone he gazeth
He sees not the fatal cliff.

The wave-bells a knell are ringing,
For the Rhine his prey hath won,
And that with her syren-singing
Hath the Sprite of the Lorely done.





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