The Sea-Girls

by Hervey Allen

Hervey Allen

When I was a boy, the tides filled
A sunstruck, saline cove each day,
A pool like a cup of life.

High stood a ruined tower there, empty,
Save of memories that returned
To moan by moonlight.

But at warm noon it lived again
With the sun through windows,
Waking haunted gloom,

And in that dusk we would undress,
Till our white bodies bloomed
Like lotus in the mist —

And then leap out! The vacant door
Gaped forth the virulent young-joy
Of boyish limbs.

We flashed ecstatic to the frothing sea;
We scissored in smooth foam,
With hearts in tingling breasts —

We laughed. We plunged, until we felt
The hands of sea-girls on us
Like a dream —

Cool arms that clung about our necks,
And oval mouths of water on our own
That warmed the fire.

Within ourselves — fin-footed Phrynies
Of the cobalt depths, like fishes
To the hips, and water-smooth.

Once they came out and lay with us
Upon the sands along, drying
Their sea-green hair.

They sought us like the wind in clothes.
What joy had we two then
To look upon each other.

Deep in brother ecstasy, our first,
And know that we should both
Get babes to swim the sea.





Last updated September 05, 2017