Who sits beside the blessed Virgin now, To whom I send my prayer by night and day

She is gone-but you will tell the King, that I,

Rack'd as I am with gout, and wrench'd with pains

Gain'd in the service of His Highness, yet Am ready to sail forth on one last voyage,

lead

1

I was the chief of the race-ho had stricken my father dead

But I gather'd my fellows together, I swore I would strike off his head. Each of them look'd like a king, and was noble in birth as in worth, And each of them boasted he sprang from the oldest race upon earth.

Each was as brave in the fight as tho bravest hero of song,

And each of them liefer had died than have done one another a wrong.

He lived on an isle in the occan-we sail'd on a Friday morn—

He that hal slain my father the day bcfore I was born.

II.

And we came to the isle in the occan, and

there on the shore was he.

But a sudden blast blew us out and away thro' a boundless sea.

III.

And we came to the Silent Isle that we never had touch'd at before,

Where a silent ocean always broke on a silent shore,

And the brooks glitter'd on in the light without sound, and the long waterfalls

Pour'd in a thunderless plunge to the base of the mountain walls, And the poplar and cypress unshaken by storm flourish'd up beyond sight, And the pine shot aloft from the crag to an unbelievable height,

And high in the heaven above there flicker'd a songless lark, And the cock couldn't crow, and the bull couldn't low, and the dog couldn't bark.

And round it we went, and thro' it, but never a murmur, a breath

It was all of it fair as life, it was all of it quiet as death,

And we hated the beautiful Isle, for whenever we strove to speak

Our voices were thinner and fainter than any flitter-mouse-shriek;

And the men that were mighty of tonguo and could raise such a battle-cry That a hundred who heard it would rush on a thousand lances and dieO they to be dumb'd by the charm I-50 fluster'd with anger were they They almost fell on each other; but after we sail'd away.

IV.

And we came to the Isle of Shouting, wo landed, a score of wild birds

Cried from the topmost summit with human voices and words;

Once in an hour they cried, and whenever their voices peal'd

The steer fell down at the plow and the harvest died from the field, And the men dropt dead in the valleys and half of the cattle went lame, And the roof sank in on the hearth, and the dwelling broke into flame; And the shouting of these wild birds ran into the hearts of my crew, Till they shouted along with the shouting and seized one another and slew: But I drew them the one from the other; I saw that we could not stay, And we left the dead to the birds and we sail'd with our wounded away.

v.

And we came to the Isle of Flowers: their breath met us out on the seas, For the Spring and the middle Summer sat each on the lap of the breeze: And the red passion-flower to the cliffs, and the dark blue clematis, clung, And starr'd with a myriad blossom the long convolvulus hung;

And the topmost spire of the mountain was lilies in lieu of snow, And the lilies like glaciers winded down, running out below

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:

And we roll'd upon capes of crocus and vannted our kith and our kin,

And we wallow'd in beds of lilies, and chanted the triumph of Finn,

Till each like a golden image was pollen'd from head to feet

And cach was as dry as a cricket, with thirst in the middle-day heat. Blossom and blossom, and promise of blossom, but never a fruit! And we hated the Flowering Isle, as we hated the isle that was mute, And we tore up the flowers by the million and flung them in bight and bay, And we left but a naked rock, and in anger we sail'd away.

VI.

And we came to the Isle of Fruits: all round from the cliffs and the capes, Purpie or amber, dangled a hundred fathom of grapes, And the warm melon lay like a little sun on the tawny sand,

And the fig ran up from the beach and

rioted over the land,

And the mountain arose like a jewell'd

throne thro' the fragrant air, Glowing with all-color'd plums and with golden masses of pear, And the crimson and scarlet of berries that flamed upon bine and vine, But in every berry and fruit was the poisonous pleasure of wine; And the peak of the mountain was apples, the hugest that ever were seen, And they prest, as they grew, on each other, with hardly a leaflet between, And all of them redder than rosiest health or than utterest shame, And setting, when Even descended, the véry sunset aflame;

And we stay'd three days, and we gorged and we madden'd, till every one drew His sword on his fellow to slay him, and ever they struck and they slew; And myself, I had eaten but sparely, and fought till I sunder'd the fray, Then I bade them remember my father's death, and we sail'd away.

VII.

And we came to the Isle of Fire: we were lured by the light from afar, 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;

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

Towers of a happier time, low down in à 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 l'aradise 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 sunbright hand,

Then it open'd and dropt at the side of cach 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 wavê as

we sat by the gurgle of springs, 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

sunbright hand of the dawn, For there was not an enemy near, but the

whole green Isle was our own, And ave 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 ia us, we slew and we sail'd away.

IX.

And we came to the Isle of Witches and heard their musical cry "Come to us, O come, come" in the stormy red of a sky Dashing the fires and the shadows of dawn on the beautiful shapes, For a wild witch naked as heaven stood on each of the loftiest capes, And a hundred ranged on the rock like white sea-birds in a row,

And a hundred gamboll'd and pranced on the wrecks. in the sand below, And a hundred splash'd from the ledges, and bôsom'd the burst of the spray, But I knew we should fall on each other, and hastily sail'd away.

X.

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:

the height,

Chaste, frugal, savage, arm'd by day and night

Against the Turk; whose inroad nowhere scales

Their headlong passes, but his footstep fails,

And red with blood the Crescent reels from fight

Before their dauntless hundreds, in prone fight

the vales.

O smallest anong peoples! rough rockthrone

Of Freedom! warriors beating back the

swarm

Of Turkish Islam for five hundred years, Great Tscrnogora! never since thine

Own

Black ridges drew the cloud and brake the storm

Has breathed a race of mightier mountaineers.

I.

ATHELSTAN King,
Lord among Earls,
Bracelet-bestower and
Baron of Barons,
He with his brother,

Edmund Atheling,
Gaining a lifelong
Glory in battle,

Slew with the sword-edge
There by Brunanburh,
Brake the shield-wall,

Hew'd the linden-wood, †

Hack'd the battle-shield,

Bons of Edward with hammer'd brands.

II.

Theirs was a greatness

Got from their Grandsires

Theirs that so often in

Strife with their enemies

Struck for their hoards and their hearths

and their homes.

III.

Bow'd the spoiler,

Bent the Scotsman,

Fell the ship-crews

Doom'd to the death.

All the field with blood of the fighters

Flow'd, from when first the great
Sun-star of morning-tide,

Lamp of the Lord God

Lord everlasting,

Glode over earth till the glorious crea

ture

Sunk to his setting.

IV.

There lay many a man
Marr'd by the javelin,
Men of the Northland
Shot over shield.

There was the Scotsman
Weary of war.

V.

We the West-Saxons,
Long as the daylight

Lasted, in companies

Troubled the track of the host that we hated,

Grimly with swords that were sharp from the grindstone,

Fiercely we hack'd at the flyers before us.

VI.

Mighty the Mercian,
Hard was his hand-play,

I have more or less availed myself of my son's prose translation of this poem in the Contemporary Review (November, 1576). †Shields of linden-wood.

Sparing not any of

Those that with Anlaf,
Warriors over the

Weltering waters

Borne in the bark's-bosom, Drew to this island,

Doom'd to the death.