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Poem	I smile o'er the wrinkled blue Lo! the sea is fair, Smooth as the flow of a maiden's hair; And the welkin's light shines through Into mid-sea caverns of beryl hue, And the little waves laugh and the mermaids sing, And the sea is a beautiful, sinuous thing! I scowl in sullen guise The sea grows dark and dun, The swift clouds hide the sun But not the bale-light in my eyes, And the frightened wind as it flies Ruffles the billows with stormy wing, And the sea is a terrible, treacherous thing! When moonlight glimmers dim I pass in the path of the mist, Like a pale spirit by spirits kissed. At dawn I chant my own weird hymn, And I dabble my hair in the sunset's rim, And I call to the dwellers along the shore With a voice of gramarye evermore. And if one for love of me Gives to my call an ear, I will woo him and hold him dear, And teach him the way of the sea, And my glamor shall ever over him be; Though he wander afar in the cities of men He will come at last to my arms again.
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