The waves sway like flowing dancers
Beneath an angry sky of bruis’d clouds;
The beating of the drummer’s thunder,
A companion to the jagged strip of golden lightning.
Of storms and impassion’d wind–
The nightmare of the sea.
The raw and ragged shouts of rushing men
Beneath the grey of a rain-spatter’d night.
The cursing as the timbered-world tilts,
A companion to the cries of dying seamen.
Of lost loves and swallow’d hopes–
The irony of the sea.
When you see her there between bluest waves and greenest foam,
Her beauty fairer than the sweetest rose,
Forget not that she makes no oath.
For though her beauty reaches across all oceans,
She is also a mother to singing sirens.
And she sings to you across the waves,
But her whirlpools are the lion’s den–
The price of the Lady of the Sea.
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