THE MERMAID'S GLASS

‘ T was down among the Thimble Isles

That strew for many “liquid miles”

The waters of Long Island Sound:

Our yacht lay in a cove; around

The rocky isles with cedars green

And channels winding in between:

And here a low, black reef was spread,

And there a sunken “nigger-head”

Dimpled the surface of the tide.

From one tall island's cliffy side

We heard the shaggy goats that fed:

The gulls wheeled screaming overhead

Or settled in a snowy flock

Far out upon the lonely rock

Which, like a pillar, seemed to show

Some drowned acropolis below.

Meanwhile, in the warm sea about,

With many a plunge and jolly shout,

Our crew enjoyed their morning bath.

The hairy skipper in his wrath

Lay cursing on the gunwale's rim:

He loved a dip but could not swim;

So, now and then with plank afloat

He'd struggle feebly round the boat

And o'er the side climb puffing in,

Scraping wide areas off his skin,

Then lie and sun each hirsute limb

Once more upon the gunwale's rim

And shout, with curses unavailing,

“Come out! There's wind: let's do some sailing.”

A palm-leaf hat, that here and there

Bobbed on the water, showed him where

Some venturous swimmer outward bound

Escaped beyond his voice's sound.

All heedless of their skipper's call,

One group fought for the upset yawl.

The conqueror sat astride the keel

And deftly pounded with his heel

The hands that clutched his citadel,

Which showed — at distance — like the shell

Round which, unseen, the Naiad train

Sport naked on the middle main.

Myself had drifted far away,

Meanwhile, from where the sail-boat lay,

Till all unbroken I could hear

The wave's low whisper in my ear,

And at the level of mine eye

The blue vibration met the sky.

Sometimes upon my back I lay

And watched the clouds, while I and they

Were wafted effortless along.—

Sudden I seemed to hear a song:

Yet not a song, but some weird strain

As though the inarticulate main

Had found a voice whose human tone

Interpreted its own dull moan;

Its foamy hiss; its surfy roar;

Its gentle lapping on the shore;

Its noise of subterranean waves

That grumble in the sea-cliff caves;

Its whish among the drifting miles

Of gulf-weed from the Indian Isles:—

All — all the harmonies were there

Which ocean makes with earth or air.

Turning I saw a sunken ledge

Bared by the ebb, along whose edge

The matted sea-weed dripped: thereon,

Betwixt the dazzle of the sun

And the blue shimmer of the sea,

I saw — or else I seemed to see

A mermaid, crooning a wild song,

Combing with arm uplifted long

The hair that shed its meshes black

Down the slope whiteness of her back.

She held a mirror in her hand,

Wherein she viewed sky, sea, and land,

Her beauty's background and its frame.

But now, as toward the rock I came,

All suddenly across the glass

Some startling image seemed to pass;

For her song rose into a scream,

Over her shoulders one swift gleam

Of eyes unearthly fell on me,

And,‘ twixt the flashing of the sea

And the blind dazzle of the sun,

I saw the rock, but thereupon

She sat no longer‘ gainst the blue;

Only across the reef there flew

One snow-white tern and vanished too.

But, coasting that lone island round,

Among the slippery kelp I found

A little oval glass that lay

Upturned and flashing in the ray

Of the down-looking sun. Thereto

With scarce believing eyes I drew

And took it captive

A while there

I rested in the mermaid's lair,

And felt the merry breeze that blew,

And watched the sharpies as they flew,

And snuffed the sea's breath thick with brine,

And basked me in the sun's warm shine;

Then with my prize I made my way

Once more to where the sail-boat lay.

I kept the secret — and the glass;

By day across its surface pass

The transient shapes of common things

Which chance within its oval brings.

But when at night I strive to sound

The darkness of its face profound,

Again I seem to hear the breeze

That curls the waves on summer seas;

I see the isles with cedars green;

The channels winding in between;

The coves with beaches of white sand;

The reefs where warning spindles stand;

And, through the multitudinous shimmer

Of waves and sun, again the glimmer

Of eyes unearthly falls on me,

Deep with the mystery of the sea.