Meanwhile, her lily fingers task to twine
His uncrispt locks uncurling in the brine.
LXIV.
"O lovely boy!"—thus she attuned her voice,—
"Welcome, thrice welcome, to a sea-maid's home,
My love-mate thou shalt be, and true heart's choice;
How have I long'd such a twin-self should come,—
A lonely thing, till this sweet chance befell,
My heart kept sighing like a hollow shell."
LXV.