A Warning. From The Danish: Poem by Lady Jane Wilde

Air Guniver roam'd in the sunset light,
Through wood and wold,
In sweet dreams of love, but her heart was bright
As proven gold.
Yet ever a voice to the maiden spoke,
Beware—beware of the false men‐folk!

Fair Guniver fished by a lonely stream,
With silken line,
And smiled to see in the silvery gleam
Her image shine.
Yet ever a voice still whispered there,
My child, of the false men‐folk false-men folk beware!

Lo! a Merman rose from the sedgy reeds,
With glittering eyes,
And a mantle of pale‐green ocean weeds
Draped kingly‐wise;
And wreath'd with the mist of his flowing hair,
Was a crown of the river‐lotus fair.

Sweet Guniver, said he, in tones that fell
So low and clear,
Like music that breathes from the caverned shell
In the listner's ear:
I've gazed on thy beauty down deep in the sea,
And my heart pines away for the love of thee.

Yet I ask thee to grant but one demand,
Oh! let me rest
My burning lips on thy snow‐white hand,
One instant blest:
And dream not of harm, for a Merman's truth
Is pure as a maiden's in stainless youth.

Fair Guniver, heed not the tongues that tell
Of man's vain wile,
For our artless souls, thou knowest full well,
Disdain all guile.
Is it much to ask for thy hand to rest
One moment, in love, on thy throbbing breast?

'Tis a gentle prayer, she answered, to sue
For one alone;
So, beautiful Merman, here take the two
Within thine own;
And if, as thou sayest, my hand can bless,
Place both to thy lips in one love caress.

He took her white hands, and he drew her down,
With laughter hoarse;
But the fishermen weep, for they look upon
Fair Guniver's corse.
And still, by her lone grave, the same voice spoke,
Beware—oh! beware of the false men‐folk!

Analysis of this poem