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THE WHITE STONE CANOE.
51
As they glided gently onwards,
To the Island of the Blessed.
Suddenly, as in a moment,
After passing through all dangers,
On the shore the two companions
Found themselves in safety landed.
Hand in hand they went together,
Over flowery fields they wandered,
Through the glades of leaf and blossom,
Where the waterfalls made music,
Where the streamlet softly murmured,
Sending to the birds above it
Songs to match their sweetest singing.
All the fragrance of the woodland,
All the beauties of the forest,
All its charms and all its secrets,
Filled their hearts with joy unspoken.
Cold and famine came not near them,
For the balmy air sustained them,
And they quaffed the spicy South wind.
