An angel spirit, spell-bound with delight!
I'll break the spell, for I would see the change
Come over those rapt features.
Azlea. Methought thou wert my father; I knew not
That others visited this lonely place.
I thought that he had come to bid me sing
With him some wild sea-melody; for we
Do often at this hour sit here awhile,
And I sing songs suiting his mood, which he
Accompanies with his great, solemn airs,
That thousands have applauded; but none feel
The music that is in them like himself.
Her. Sweet child! thy father's solemn melodies
Have been infused into thy youthful spirit!
Ere yet I saw thee—hidden from my sight
By the projecting rocks—I heard thy voice
Blending to harmony the mournful sounds
Of sighing winds and waves; and I did think
Some spirit's airy fingers swept a lyre,
Along these echoing shores. And I was right;
'Twas nature's lyre I heard—its thousand strings
Vibrating in thy heart. Wilt sing for me?
Azlea. I seldom sing for any but my father;
But did I know what music suits you best,
I might attempt a single song for you.
Her. The one which you were singing.
Azlea. (Sings.)
Maidens of the bright blue sea,
Dwells love in your crystal caves?
Live ye not right merrily,
'Neath the wild careering waves?
