The Song of the Sirens by Alexander Stuart Strachan/Strahan

Come where the woods are wooing
With fragrant flowers and fair;
Come where the doves are cooing
Love notes on every air.

Come where the wave is strewing
With pink-lipped shells the shore;
Come where the tide is flowing
O’er golden-sanded floor.

Come where the sunlight straying
Mellows us as we swim;
Come where the waters playing
Dimple each rosy limb.

Come to us, come where never
North wind unkindly blows;
Come to us, come and ever
Here in our arms repose.

Come where no storms are breaking,
Come where  no tempests rend;
Come where love knows no waking,
Come where love knows no end.

From: Strachan, A., “The Song of the Sirens” in The Dark Blue, Volume 1, Issue 2, 1 April 1871, p. 189.
(https://dvpp.uvic.ca/poems/darkblue/1871/pom_165_the_song_of_the_sirens.html)

Date: 1871

By: Alexander Stuart Strachan/Strahan (1833-1918)

Tags: 1871, alexander stuart strachan strahan, come where the woods are wooing, poetry, the song of the sirens