284 THE PHANTOM LAND. 



I ceased and, like one watching for the morn, 



I gazed upon the wide-spread sea below. 



Methought I saw a boat, but it was gone 



Ere I could tell if it were one or no ; 



And losing sight of it I felt forlorn. 



Yet still I gazed, nor were my eyes withdrawn 



Till they grew dim with tears, I strained them so. 



I looked again with anxious eagerness, 

 And once more saw it or methought I did. 

 My sadness now was changed to joy's excess 

 But, in an instant, it again was hid. 

 Still gazing, in a minute's time or less, 

 O'er a wave's giddy top I saw it press ; 

 Then out of sight down its dark side it slid. 



Again it mounted on a billow vast, 



Again into the vale of waves it sped, 



Though tossed about, it yet approached me fast ; 



But as it came I felt a secret dread ; 



And wild and strange imaginations past 



Athwart my mind. It reached the shore at last 



Two men were in the boat I should have said. 



The one that rowed the boat was old, yet hale ; 

 The leathern dress that o'er his limbs was drawn 

 Seemed made a thousand years; shrivelled, and pale, 

 And downcast was his visage, woe-begone, 

 And dark his streaming hair. Of bitter bale 

 He would have spoken had he told his tale. 

 The other seemed a creature of the dawn. 



He stepped on shore. The human form he bore, 

 Yet such wherein th' immortal might be seen, 

 Celestial grace unfolding, and, yet more, 

 Instincts divine illumed his face serene ; 

 His flaxen locks hung softly clustering o'er 

 His shoulders, down the mantle which he wore ; 

 Plain was his garb, yet noble was his mien. 



He beckoned me to come, and I obeyed 



Obeyed, like one deprived of self-control ; 



I shook, and felt as one of death afraid, 



And sadness took possession of my soul. 



And I repented now that I had prayed 



To leave firm ground to tempt the realms of shade 



Methought the sea more wildly seemed to roll. 



With that he took my hand in his, and said, 

 " My son ! I come a long and weary way 

 To show thee those dim regions where the dead 

 Dead to sweet peace, and the sun's cheerful ray, 

 Live still. The boat is waiting \ thou hast led 

 A life of virtue, and hast nought to dread." 

 I bowed my head I could not but obey. 



