A mist was creeping up from the sea and through it there came the long call of a distant syren.

Earth with her retinue of allurements, her band of fascinating syrens, exclaims, "We have lost our hold on this man!

Cease, tempting syren, cease thy flattering strain, Sweet is thy charming song, but song in vain: When the winds blow, and loud the tempests roar, What fool would trust the waves, and quit the shore?

Every where the eye, the ear, the imagination, is provoked, bewildered, haunted by the magic of this universal syren.

And thou, sweet girl, whose lovely modest mien, Cheers the gay banquet with unconscious wiles, Long mayest thou grace it with affection's smiles, The vocal syren of this sylvan scene.