Ballads of Lost Haven: A Book of the Sea

by Bliss Carman

Where the heart within them is yearning home,—

For one long drench of the surf to quell

The cursing doom of the goblin spell.

Only, when bugling snows alight

To smother the marshes stark and white,

Or a low red moon peers over the rim

Of a winter twilight crisp and dim,

With a sound of drift on the buried lands,

The goblin maidens loose their hands;