Page:Felicia Hemans in The Winter's Wreath 1832.pdf/4



is the Syren warbling on thy shore, Bright City of the Waves!—her magic song Still, with a dreamy sense of ecstasy, Fills thy soft summer's air:—and while my glance Dwells on thy pictured loveliness, that lay Floats thus o'er Fancy's ear; and thus to thee, Daughter of Sunshine! doth the Syren sing.



So doth the Syren sing, while sparking waves Dance to her chaunt.—But sternly, mournfully, O city of the deep! from Sybil grots And Roman tombs, the echesechoes [sic] of thy shore Take up the cadence of her strain alone, Murmuring—"Thou art not free!"