Page:Maurine and Other Poems (1910).pdf/22

 But none return to tell us of the land. I freed the Swan, and slowly rowed about, Wherever sea-weeds, grass, or green leaves lifted Their tips above the water. So we drifted, While Helen, opposite, leaned idly out And watched for lilies in the waves below, And softly crooned some sweet and dreamy air, That soothed me like a mother’s lullabies. I dropped the oars, and closed my sun-kissed eyes, And let the boat go drifting here and there. Oh, happy day! the last of that brief time Of thoughtless youth, when all the world seems bright, Ere that disguisèd angel men call Woe Leads the sad heart through valleys dark as night, Up to the heights exalted and sublime. On each blest, happy moment, I am fain To linger long, ere I pass on to pain And sorrow that succeeded.

From day-dreams, As golden as the summer noontide’s beams, I was awakened by a voice that cried: “Strange ship, ahoy! Fair frigate, whither bound?” And, starting up, I cast my gaze around, And saw a sail-boat o’er the water glide Close to the Swan, like some live thing of grace; And from it looked the glowing, handsome face Of Vivian.

“Beauteous sirens of the sea, Come sail across the raging main with me!” He laughed; and leaning, drew our drifting boat Beside his own. “There, now! step in!” he said; “I’ll land you anywhere you want to go— My boat is safer far than yours, I know: And much more pleasant with its sails all spread. The Swan? We’ll take the oars, and let it float Ashore at leisure. You, Maurine, sit there— Miss Helen here. Ye gods and little fishes! I’ve reached the height of pleasure, and my wishes. Adieu despondency! farewell to care!”

’Twas done so quickly: that was Vivian’s way. He did not wait for either yea or nay. He gave commands, and left you with no choice But just to do the bidding of his voice.