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By such degrees to joy they come,
And are so long withstood,
It hardly does them good.
'Tis cruel to prolong a pain;
And to defer a joy,
Offends the winged boy.
An hundred thousand oaths your fears
Perhaps would not remove; And, if I gazed a thousand years,
I could no deeper love.
Sir Charles Sedley. SIREN'S SONG
Steer hither, steer, your winged pines,
All beaten mariners,
A prey to passengers;
Fear not your ships,
But come on shore
For swelling waves, our panting breasts,
Where never storms arise,
For stars, gaze on our eyes.
We will not miss
Browne. THE NEREIDS.
Beloved the last; Beloved the most!
With willing arms and brow benign Receive a bosom tempest-tost,
And bid it ever beat to thine.
The Nereid maids, in days of yore,
Saw the wreck blacken all the shore,
Afar, the youngest of the train
A minstrel from the billowy main
Then terror fled, and pity rose —
'Ah me!' she cried, ' I come too late!
Rather than not have soothed his woes, I would, but may not, share his fate.' EVENING ON THE SHOKE.
She raised his hand: 'What hand like this
Could reach the heart athwart the lyre!
From eve to morn, from mom to eve,
And those who love and who believe,
W. S. Landor.
EVENING ON THE SHORE.
The baffled tides retiring from the land,
Lay bare the beach, and steal the sea-weed's life, And all is silence, save the gentle strife
Of the spent waters with the yielding sand.
On the tall cliff the dying sunlight glows,
And stains with dolphin hues the waveless bay, — The stars peep forth that lead the night's array
Where in mid-heaven the deep'ning purple grows.
How cool an eve attends this burning day!
How sweet a peace the troubled wave subdues!
Oh troubled, burning heart! canst thou refuse To be as calmly hush'd to rest as they?
W. H. Hurlbut.
The sun is couched, the sea-fowl gone to rest,