HE rose at dawn and, fired with hope, Shot o'er the seething harbor-bar, And reach'd the ship and caught the rope, And whistled to the morning star. And while he whistled long and loud He heard a fierce mermaiden cry, 'O boy, tho' thou art young and proud, I see the place where thou wilt lie. 'The sands and yeasty surges mix In caves about the dreary bay, And on thy ribs the limpet sticks, And in thy heart the scrawl shall play.' 'Fool,' he answer'd, 'death is sure To those that stay and those that roam, But I will nevermore endure To sit with empty hands at home. 'My mother clings about my neck, My sisters crying, "Stay for shame;" My father raves of death and wreck, -- They are all to blame, they are all to blame. 'God help me! save I take my part Of danger on the roaring sea, A devil rises in my heart, Far worse than any death to me.' | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FLUSH OR FAUNUS by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING THE EVE OF BUNKER HILL [JUNE 16, 1775] by CLINTON SCOLLARD I SHALL LIVE TO BE OLD by SARA TEASDALE SATIRE: 4 by AULUS PERSIUS FLACCUS BIRDS OF PASSAGE: PRELUDE by MATHILDE BLIND POEM BY A PERFECTLY FURIOUS ACADEMICIAN by CHARLES WILLIAM SHIRLEY BROOKS PILGRIM MOTHERS by ABBIE FARWELL BROWN THE PROCTORSVILLE AND WINDSOR, VERMONT, STAGE by DANIEL LEAVENS CADY |