Renascence: A Book of Verse — The Sirens Three Dedicatory Sonnet

WILLIAM MORRIS

THE Mage of Naishapur in English tongue Beside the northern sea, I, wandering, read, With chaunt of breaking waves each verse was said, Till, storm-possessed, my heart in answer sung;

And to the winds my ship of thoughts I flung, And drifted wide upon the ocean dread Of space and time, ere thought and life were bred, Till Hope did cast the anchor, and I clung.

The Book of Omar saw I limned in gold, And decked with vine and rose and pictured pause, Enwrought by hands of one well skilled and bold In art and poesy and Freedom’s cause— Hope of humanity and equal laws— To him and to this hope be mine enscrolled.

[Illustration: ·THE·SIRENS·THREE] I

LOST on a sleepless sea, without avail My soul’s ship drifted wide, with idle sail And slow pulsating oars, that night’s blue gulf Beat noiselessly to Time’s recurring tale.