In my ear right sweet she was sighing
With the voice of the pink-veined shells;
Her arms 'round my neck kept tying,
And gazed in mine eyes' deep wells.
With her kisses cold did she woo me,
But I dimmed my heart's wild beat;
With the stars of her eyes did she sue me,
But their passion did mine defeat.
With the cloud of her sea-dipped tresses
She veiled her beautiful face;—
And oh! how I longed for her kisses
And sighed for her soft embrace!
But out in the mist she went wailing
When the dawn besilvered the night,
With her robes of samite trailing
In the foam-flowers sad and white.
Like a spirit grieved went moaning
In a twilight over the sea,
And it seemed the night was groaning,
And my heart beat wild in me.
But I hushed my heart's fierce beating,
For a Mermaid false was she;
Yet I sighed at her faintly fleeting
Across the dim, dark sea.
The moon all withered is glowing,
The mist and she are gone;
My heart to ice is growing,
And I sob at the coming dawn.
THE PUNISHMENT OF LOKE.
The gods of Asaheim, incensed with Loke,
A whirlwind yoked with thunder-footed steeds,
And, carried thus, boomed o'er the booming seas,
Far as the teeming wastes of Jotunheim,
To punish Loke for all his wily crimes.