For the peak sent up one league of fire to the Northern Star;

Lured by the glare and the blare, but

scarcely could stand upright, For the whole isle shudder'd and shook like a man in a mortal affright. We were giddy besides with the fruits we

had gorged, and so crazed that at last There were some leap'd into the fire; and away we sail'd, and we past Over that undersea isle, where the water is clearer than air.

Down we look'd — what a garden! O bliss, what a Paradise there !

Towers of a happier time, low down in a

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rainbow deep Silent palaces, quiet fields of eternal sleep! And three of the gentlest and best of my

people, whate'er I could say, Plunged head-down in the sea, and the Paradise trembled away.

VIII

And we came to the Bounteous Isle, where the heavens lean low on the land, And ever at dawn from the cloud glitter'd

o'er us a sun-bright hand,

Then it open'd and dropt at the side of each man, as he rose from his rest, Bread enough for his need till the laborless

day dipt under the west;

And we wander'd about it and thro' it. O, never was time so good! And we sang of the triumphs of Finn, and the boast of our ancient blood, And we gazed at the wandering wave as we sat by the gurgle of springs,

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And we chanted the songs of the Bards and the glories of fairy kings. But at length we began to be weary, to sigh, and to stretch and yawn, Till we hated the Bounteous Isle and the

sun-bright hand of the dawn, For there was not an enemy near, but the whole green isle was our own, And we took to playing at ball, and we took to throwing the stone,

And we took to playing at battle, but that was a perilous play,

For the passion of battle was in us, we slew and we sail'd away.

IX

And we came to the Isle of Witches and heard their musical cry

And we came in an evil time to the Isle of the Double Towers,

One was of smooth-cut stone, one carved all over with flowers,

But an earthquake always moved in the hollows under the dells,

And they shock'd on each other and butted each other with clashing of bells, And the daws flew out of the towers and jangled and wrangled in vain, And the clash and boom of the bells rang into the heart and the brain, Till the passion of battle was on us, and all took sides with the towers, There were some for the clean-cut stone, there were more for the carven

flowers,

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