Mellow, and sweet, and faint—
As if some spirit’s touch had given
The soul of sound to harp of heaven
To soothe a dying saint!
Is it the mermaid’s distant shell,
Warbling beneath the moonlit wave?
—Such witching tones might lure full well
The seaman to his grave!
Sure from no mortal touch ye rise,
Wild, soft, aërial melodies!