400
The misty billows, ebbing, show
Where fairy isles in beauty glow;
Delicious spots of elfin green,
Emerging from a world unseen,
Of dreams and quaintest phantasies—
Spots that would the Faerye Queen
To a very tittle please!
Away the shadowy phantoms roll,
Up-borne by the rising breeze,
Fluttering like some banner scroll;
While, peering o'er the silent seas
Of yon far shore, thou may'st descry
The red glance of the Day-Star's eye!
Hollo, my Fancy! Let us trace
The breaking of the vestal dawn!
Through dappled clouds, with stealthy pace,
It travels over mount and lawn.
Lacings of crimson and of gold,
Threaded and twined an hundred-fold,
Bar the far Orient, while the sea
Of molten brass appears to be.
And lo! upon that glancing tide
Vessels of snowy whiteness glide:
Some portward, self-impelled are steering,
Some in the distance disappearing;
