BY the side of me, the immortal Pan, Lies the sweetest thing of the sea; In her gown of brine, With her breast to mine, And her drowned dark hair lies she! But her smile -- like the wine-red, shadowy sea, When the day slides on and down -- By the gods, it is tender death to me! In its waters dark I drown! "O slave of mine! Thou mystery Of smiling depths -- I drown!" |