<SPAN name="chap035"></SPAN>
<h3> THE MERMAID'S GLASS </h3>
<p class="poem">
'T was down among the Thimble Isles<br/>
That strew for many "liquid miles"<br/>
The waters of Long Island Sound:<br/>
Our yacht lay in a cove; around<br/>
The rocky isles with cedars green<br/>
And channels winding in between:<br/>
And here a low, black reef was spread,<br/>
And there a sunken "nigger-head"<br/>
Dimpled the surface of the tide.<br/>
From one tall island's cliffy side<br/>
We heard the shaggy goats that fed:<br/>
The gulls wheeled screaming overhead<br/>
Or settled in a snowy flock<br/>
Far out upon the lonely rock<br/>
Which, like a pillar, seemed to show<br/>
Some drowned acropolis below.<br/>
Meanwhile, in the warm sea about,<br/>
With many a plunge and jolly shout,<br/>
Our crew enjoyed their morning bath.<br/>
The hairy skipper in his wrath<br/>
Lay cursing on the gunwale's rim:<br/>
He loved a dip but could not swim;<br/>
So, now and then with plank afloat<br/>
He'd struggle feebly round the boat<br/>
And o'er the side climb puffing in,<br/>
Scraping wide areas off his skin,<br/>
Then lie and sun each hirsute limb<br/>
Once more upon the gunwale's rim<br/>
And shout, with curses unavailing,<br/>
"Come out! There's wind: let's do some sailing."<br/></p>
<p class="poem">
A palm-leaf hat, that here and there<br/>
Bobbed on the water, showed him where<br/>
Some venturous swimmer outward bound<br/>
Escaped beyond his voice's sound.<br/>
All heedless of their skipper's call,<br/>
One group fought for the upset yawl.<br/>
The conqueror sat astride the keel<br/>
And deftly pounded with his heel<br/>
The hands that clutched his citadel,<br/>
Which showed—at distance—like the shell<br/>
Round which, unseen, the Naiad train<br/>
Sport naked on the middle main.<br/>
Myself had drifted far away,<br/>
Meanwhile, from where the sail-boat lay,<br/>
Till all unbroken I could hear<br/>
The wave's low whisper in my ear,<br/>
And at the level of mine eye<br/>
The blue vibration met the sky.<br/>
Sometimes upon my back I lay<br/>
And watched the clouds, while I and they<br/>
Were wafted effortless along.—<br/>
Sudden I seemed to hear a song:<br/>
Yet not a song, but some weird strain<br/>
As though the inarticulate main<br/>
Had found a voice whose human tone<br/>
Interpreted its own dull moan;<br/>
Its foamy hiss; its surfy roar;<br/>
Its gentle lapping on the shore;<br/>
Its noise of subterranean waves<br/>
That grumble in the sea-cliff caves;<br/>
Its whish among the drifting miles<br/>
Of gulf-weed from the Indian Isles:—<br/>
All—all the harmonies were there<br/>
Which ocean makes with earth or air.<br/>
Turning I saw a sunken ledge<br/>
Bared by the ebb, along whose edge<br/>
The matted sea-weed dripped: thereon,<br/>
Betwixt the dazzle of the sun<br/>
And the blue shimmer of the sea,<br/>
I saw—or else I seemed to see<br/>
A mermaid, crooning a wild song,<br/>
Combing with arm uplifted long<br/>
The hair that shed its meshes black<br/>
Down the slope whiteness of her back.<br/>
She held a mirror in her hand,<br/>
Wherein she viewed sky, sea, and land,<br/>
Her beauty's background and its frame.<br/>
But now, as toward the rock I came,<br/>
All suddenly across the glass<br/>
Some startling image seemed to pass;<br/>
For her song rose into a scream,<br/>
Over her shoulders one swift gleam<br/>
Of eyes unearthly fell on me,<br/>
And, 'twixt the flashing of the sea<br/>
And the blind dazzle of the sun,<br/>
I saw the rock, but thereupon<br/>
She sat no longer 'gainst the blue;<br/>
Only across the reef there flew<br/>
One snow-white tern and vanished too.<br/>
But, coasting that lone island round,<br/>
Among the slippery kelp I found<br/>
A little oval glass that lay<br/>
Upturned and flashing in the ray<br/>
Of the down-looking sun. Thereto<br/>
With scarce believing eyes I drew<br/>
And took it captive<br/>
<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 10em">A while there</SPAN><br/>
I rested in the mermaid's lair,<br/>
And felt the merry breeze that blew,<br/>
And watched the sharpies as they flew,<br/>
And snuffed the sea's breath thick with brine,<br/>
And basked me in the sun's warm shine;<br/>
Then with my prize I made my way<br/>
Once more to where the sail-boat lay.<br/>
I kept the secret—and the glass;<br/>
By day across its surface pass<br/>
The transient shapes of common things<br/>
Which chance within its oval brings.<br/>
But when at night I strive to sound<br/>
The darkness of its face profound,<br/>
Again I seem to hear the breeze<br/>
That curls the waves on summer seas;<br/>
I see the isles with cedars green;<br/>
The channels winding in between;<br/>
The coves with beaches of white sand;<br/>
The reefs where warning spindles stand;<br/>
And, through the multitudinous shimmer<br/>
Of waves and sun, again the glimmer<br/>
Of eyes unearthly falls on me,<br/>
Deep with the mystery of the sea.<br/></p>
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