Of mermaid and of sea-nymph, by this scene,
And this mysterious music, are recalled;
And I can fancy where their pearly barks
Will burst the azure waves and greet my sight
With their much storied loveliness. And now
I hear a burst of song, as witching real
As if 'twere mortal sung it, and I saw
The songstress with mine eyes. Perchance there is
A wind-harp on these shores; I'll seek it out,
For I do love these harps of nature best;
And they are tuned by spirits, whose light fingers
Do at the same time sweep song from our hearts,
Vibrating our whole being.
SONG.
Maidens of the coral grove!
Hear what I implore of you:
If ye know of endless love,
Tell your earthly sister true;
Mortals tell her love is vain—
Answer from the sighing main!
Her. A fair enchantress! and by her frail form,
And youthful, innocent face, a very child!
Too lovely to be mortal, I should say,
Save for the hound that tracks her sylph-like feet.
Lovely! she seems as if she were the soul
Of all the mighty beauty of this scene;
Wondrously beautiful! not more sublime
Looks the great ocean than that infant face!
Such a strange loveliness the scene, the hour,
And the wild, mournful music of the waves,
Have breathed into each feature. And the light
Of her young spirit shining purely through,
Awed and o'ermastered, yet devoid of fear,
She seems as when on the bewildered sight
