| Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). Poetry: A Magazine of Verse. 1912–22. | | | | The Sea Singer | | By Alfred Perceval Graves |
| | | THE HEAVEN was star-strewn | |
| Above the new moon; | |
| Before a faint breeze we were floating; | |
| When out of the distance, still clearer and clearer | |
| And nearer and nearer there sighed | 5 |
| And there cried | |
| A strange, lonesome song o’er the tide. | |
| |
| We stood still and grave | |
| To watch a far wave, | |
| That gathered and gathered toward us; | 10 |
| Till laughing aboard us there leaped from the billow | |
| With locks long and yellow—a Maid— | |
| The Sea Maid, | |
| Whose song on our heart-strings had played. | |
| |
| Sweet pain, pleasure sharp, | 15 |
| She poured from her harp; | |
| Around her we listened in wonder, | |
| The wave warbled under, the stars in heaven’s hollow | |
| They all seemed to follow her song, | |
| Her lone song, | 20 |
| As idly we fleeted along. | |
| |
| To leave us she turned; | |
| Then rashly we burned | |
| To keep her bright beauty before us. | |
| But when to enring her we strove, the Sea Singer | 25 |
| She wove her white finger around | |
| And around, | |
| And left us all standing spell-bound. | | | | |
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