Just above yon sandy bar,
        As the day grows fainter and dimmer,
    Lonely and lovely, a single star
        Lights the air with a dusky glimmer

    Into the ocean faint and far
        Falls the trail of its golden splendor,
    And the gleam of that single star
        Is ever refulgent, soft, and tender.

    Chrysaor, rising out of the sea,
        Showed thus glorious and thus emulous,
    Leaving the arms of Callirrhoe,
        Forever tender, soft, and tremulous.

    Thus o'er the ocean faint and far
        Trailed the gleam of his falchion brightly;
    Is it a God, or is it a star
        That, entranced, I gaze on nightly!


facebook share button twitter share button google plus share button tumblr share button reddit share button email share button share on pinterest pinterest

Create a library and add your favorite stories. Get started by clicking the "Add" button.
Add Chrysaor to your own personal library.

Return to the Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Home Page, or . . . Read the next poem; Curfew

Anton Chekhov
Nathaniel Hawthorne
Susan Glaspell
Mark Twain
Edgar Allan Poe
Mary E. Wilkins Freeman
Herman Melville
Stephen Leacock
Kate Chopin
Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson