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And the brooks glitter'd on in the light

without sound, and the long water

falls 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 it there

Aicker'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 breathIt 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 Aittermouse-shriek; And the men that were mighty of tongue

and could raise such a battle-cry That a hundred who heard it would rush

on a thousand lances and die -O they to be dumb'd by the charm! ---SO

fluster'd with anger were they They almost fell on each other; but after

we sail'd away.

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 Thro' the fire of the tulip and poppy, the

blaze of gorse, and the blush Of millions of roses that sprang without leaf or

thorn from the bush; And the whole isle-side flashing down

from the peak without ever a tree Swept like a torrent of gems from the sky

to the blue of the sea; And we roll'd upon capes of crocus and

vaunted 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 each 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.



And we came to the Isle of Shouting, we

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.

And we came to the Isle of Fruits : all

round from the cliffs and the capes, Purple 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-colour'd plums and with

golden masses of pear,

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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 labour

less 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 Fins,

and the boast of our ancient blood, And we gazed at the wandering wave 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, tu

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 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.


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

very 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; 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

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 sunbright hand,

And we past to the Isle of Witches and

heard their musical cry. 'Come to us, 0 come, come in the

storiny 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 gambollid and pranced

on the wrecks in the sand below, And a hundred splash'd from the ledges.

and bosom’d the burst of the spray, But I knew we should fall on each other,

and hastily sail'd away,

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 ani

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 passive of battle was on us, and

all took sides with the Towers, There were some for the clean-cut stone,

there icre more for the carven

dowers, And t'e wrathful thunder of God peald

over us all the day, For the one half slew the other, and after

we sail'd away.


I. OUT of the deep, my child, out of the

deep, Where all that was be, in all that was, Whirl'd for a million æons thro' the vast Waste dawn of multitudinous-eddying

light Out of the deep, my child, out of the

deep, Thro' all this changing world of change

less law, And every phase of ever-heightening life, And nine long months of antenatal gloom, With this last moon, this crescent - her

dark orb Touch'd with earth's light — thou comest,

darling boy; Our own; a babe in lineament and limb Perfect, and prophet of the perfect man; Whose face and form are hers and mine

in one,

And we came to the Isle of a Saint who

had sail'd with St. Brendan of

yore, He had lived ever since on the Isle and

his winters were fifteen score, And his voice was low as from other

worlds, and his eyes were sweet, And his white hair sank to his heels and

his white beard fell to his feet, And he spake to me, 'O Maeldune, let

be this purpose of thine! Remember the words of the Lord when

he told us “Vengeance is mine! His fathers have slain thy fathers in war

or in single strife, Thy fathers have slain his fathers, each

taken a life for a life, Thy father had slain his father, how long

shall the murder last? Go back to the Isle of Finn and suffer

the Past to be Past.' And we kiss'd the fringe of his beard and

we pray'd as we heard him pray, And the Holy man he assoil'd us, and

sadly we sail'd away.

Indissolubly married like our love;
Live, and be happy in thyself, and serve
This mortal race thy kin so well, that men
May bless thee as we bless thee, O young

life Breaking with laughter from the dark;

and may


The fated channel where thy motion lives Be prosperously shaped, and sway thy Along the years of haste and random

youth Unshatter'd; then full-current thro' full

man; And last in kindly curves, with gentlest

fall, By quiet fields, a slowly-dying power, To that last deep where we and thou are





And we came to the Isle we were blown

from, and there on the shore was

he, The man that had slain my father. I

saw him and let him be. weary was I of the travel, the trouble,

the strife and the sin, When I landed again, with a tithe of my

men, on the Isle of Finn.

Out of the deep, my child, out of the

deep, From that great deep, before our world




Whereon the Spirit of God moves as he

will Out of the deep, my child, out of the

deep, From that true world within the world

we see, Whereof our world is but the bounding

shore Out of the deep, Spirit, out of the

deep, With this ninth moon, that sends the

hidden sun Down yon dark sea, thou comest, darling


Hallowed be Thy name--Halleluiah!

Infinite Ideality!
Immeasurable Reality!

Infinite Personality!
Hallowed be Thy name — Halleluiah!


We feel we are nothing - for all is Thou

and in Thee; We feel we are something that also bas

come from Thee; We know we are nothing -- but Tho.

wilt help us to be. Hallowed be Thy name — Halleluiah!


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For in the world, which is not ours, They

said • Let us make man' and that which

should be man, From that one light no man can look

upon, Drew to this shore lit by the suns and

moons And all the shadows. O dear Spirit

half-lost In thine own shadow and this fleshly

sign That thou art thou — who wailest being

born And banish'd into mystery, and the pain Of this divisible-indivisible world Among the numerable-innumerable Sun, sun, and sun, thro' finite-infinite

space In finite-infinite Time — our mortal veil And shatter'd phantom of that infinite

One, Who made thee unconceivably Thyself Out of His whole World-self and all in

all Live thou! and of the grain and husk,

the grape And ivyberry, choose; and still depart From death to death thro' life and life,

and find Nearer and nearer Him, who

wrought Not Matter, nor the finite-infinite, But this main-miracle, that thou art

thou, With power on thine own act and on the


Our true co-mates regather round the

mast; Of diverse tongue, but with a common w.. Here, in this roaring moon of daffodil And crocus, to put forth and brave the

blast; For some, descending from the sacred

peak Of hoar high-templed Faith, have leagued

again Their lot with ours to rove the world

about; And some are wilder comrades, sworn to

seek If any golden harbour be for men In seas of Death and sunless gulfs of



TO THE REV. W. H. BROOKFIELD. Brooks, for they call’d you so that knew

you best, Old Brooks, who loved so well to mouth

my rhymes,

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How oft we two have heard St. Mary's

chimes! How oft the Cantab supper, host and

guest, Would echo helpless laughter to your jest ! How oft with him we paced that walk of

Times, Him, the lost light of those dawn-golden

times, Who loved you well! Now both are gone

to rest. You man of humorous-melancholy mark, Dead of some inward agony – is it so? Our kindlier, trustier Jaques, past away! I cannot laud this life, it looks so dark : Ekrâs drap- dream of a shadow, goGod bless you. I shall join you in a day.

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MONTENEGRO. They rose to where their sovran eagle sails, They kept their faith, their freedom, on

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 By thousands down the crags and thro'

the vales. O smallest among peoples! rough rock


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