Minions of the moon / by Madison Cawein [electronic text]

THE SEA FAERY

SHE was strange as the orchids that blossom And glimmer and shower their balm And bloom on the tropical ocean, That crystals round islands of palm: And she sang to and beckoned and bound me With beauty immortal and calm.

She was wild as the spirits that banner, Auroral, the ends of the Earth, With polar processions, that battle With Darkness; or, breathing, give birth To Silence; and herd from the mountains The icebergs, gigantic of girth.

She was silver as sylphids who blend with The morning the pearl of their cheeks: And rosy as spirits whose tresses Trail golden the sunset with streaks: An opaline presence that beckoned And spake as the sea-rapture speaks:—

"Come with me! come down in the ocean! — Yea, leave this dark region with me! — Come! leave it! forget it in thunder And roll of the infinite sea! Come with me! —No mortal bliss equals The bliss I shall give unto thee." . . .

And so it was then that she bound me With witchcraft no mortal divines, While softly with kisses she drew me, As the moon draws a dream from the pines, Down, down to her cavern of coral, Where ever the sea-serpent twines.

And ever the creatures, whose shadows Bulk huge as an isle on the sight, Swim cloud-like and vast, without number, Around her who leans, like a light, And smiles at me sleeping, pale-sleeping, Wrapped deep in her mermaiden might.