The Sirens

Wail! wail! and smite your lyres’ sonorous gold, And beckon naked beauty; luring me With arms and breasts and hips of godly mold, Dark, wind-wild locks seen through the surf-blown sea!

Vain all your magic! dull in unclosed ears! Beside one voice sweet-calling o’er the foam, That, in my heart, like some strong hand appears To gently, firmly draw my vessel home.