The Sirens' Song

By William Browne, of Tavistock

1588-1643

STEER, hither steer your winged pines,
         All beaten mariners!
Here lie Love's undiscover'd mines,
         A prey to passengers--
Perfumes far sweeter than the best
Which make the Phoenix' urn and nest.
         Fear not your ships,
Nor any to oppose you save our lips;
         But come on shore,
Where no joy dies till Love hath gotten more.

For swelling waves our panting breasts,
         Where never storms arise,
Exchange, and be awhile our guests:
         For stars gaze on our eyes.
The compass Love shall hourly sing,
And as he goes about the ring,
         We will not miss
To tell each point he nameth with a kiss.
         --Then come on shore,
Where no joy dies till Love hath gotten more.

DayPoems Poem No. 241
<a href="http://www.daypoems.net/poems/241.html">The Sirens' Song by William Browne, of Tavistock</a>

The DayPoems Poetry Collection, www.daypoems.net
Timothy Bovee, editor

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