V. Pictures. Two series of pictures are kept side by side all the time; one of the land, and the other of the sea. Try to create a vivid scene from each.
First, on land: We can see a little town, nestling on the side of a bleak, wind-swept hill, an old English town with a white stone wall all around it. On the hill, which is too rough to be cultivated, grow great fields of heather, studded with the golden blossoms of broom-plant. A little gray stone church stands surrounded by its yard, where the village dead are buried, for such was the old custom in England. The stones are at the head of the graves, and the walls of the church are rain- and storm-worn, but bright stained-glass windows in the building and flowers and trees among the graves make the place very beautiful. Some of the windows are clear, so that you can look through and gaze along the aisle bordered by high wooden pews and see the priest reading service, and, by one of the stone pillars, the merman’s wife, her eyes steadily gazing at the bible in her lap. You are privileged, too, to peep into one of the thatched cottages, and see the mother turning the old-fashioned spinning wheel. From her house there is a wide view down the hill, across the bay and out to sea. At high tide the breakers dash madly against the shore, but at low tide there is a broad strip of silver sand, rocks covered with sea-weed, and in the low places, creeks and pools of salt water. Does the artist’s picture represent high or low tide?
Second, at sea: Deep beneath the surface of the water where the waves toss and roar, where the surf and spray dash madly about, are great caverns strewn with white sand. It is cool down there in the depths, and the light filtering through the clear green sea is weak and pale. The water streams through caverns, swaying the exquisite sea-weeds that line the walls; and outside, round about, whales, sea-snakes and all manner of water beasts swim in play or struggle for mastery. In one of the caverns stands a great throne of red gold, ornamented with graceful sea fringe, pearls and amber. From without one may gaze up to the amber-colored ceiling, or down to the pavement of lustrous pearl. It was this wondrous palace that the mermaid abandoned for the sake of her soul.
VI. Sentiment. It is, on the whole, a sad poem, though a few cheering thoughts are suggested by it. Without an attempt at classification and analysis, here are a few choice ideas taken in order as they occur:
Page 180. “Children’s voices should be dear to a mother’s ear.”
Page 183. “Long prayers in the world they say.”
Page 183. “Oh joy, for the blessed light of the sun!”
Page 185. The last stanza shows very pleasingly the faithfulness of father and children, in contrast to the inconstancy of the mother.
VII. Beauty. Besides its sentiment, the poem gives us other beauties in great number. Here are some of them:
a. Unity. The poem has one idea running through it from beginning to end, an idea that is nowhere lacking, though at first it is not seen. What is the one idea? Grief, but not bitterness nor anger. Each succeeding stanza is seen to add something to this idea, till all our sympathies are enlisted for the forsaken children, more than for the father who does all the talking.