There sits a lovely maiden, The ocean murmuring nigh;She throws the hook, and watches; The fishes pass it by.
A ring, with a red jewel, Is sparkling on her hand;Upon the hook she binds it, And flings it from the land.
Uprises from the water A hand like ivory fair.What gleams upon its finger? The golden ring is there.
Uprises from the bottom A young and handsome knight;In golden scales he rises, That glitter in the light.
The maid is pale with terror-- "Nay, Knight of Ocean, nay,It was not thee I wanted; Let go the ring, I pray."
"Ah, maiden, not to fishes The bait of gold is thrown;The ring shall never leave me, And thou must be my own."
LATER POEMS.
LATER POEMS