Still I hear the ululation

Of their stormy exultation,

Multitudinous, and blending

In hoarse echoes, far, unending;

And, through halls of fog and frost,

Howling back, like madness lost

In the moonless mansion of

Its own demon-haunted love.

V

Still in my dreams I hear the mermaid singing;

The mermaid music at its portal ringing;

The mermaid song, that hinged with gold its door,

And, whispering evermore,

Hushed the ponderous hurl and roar

And vast æolian thunder

Of the chained tempests under

The frozen cataracts that were its floor.—

And, blinding beautiful, I still behold

The mermaid there, combing her locks of gold,

While, at her feet, green as the Northern Seas,

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