FROM A NEW ENGLAND HILLSIDE. 49 



But it doesn t mako any difference ; we 

 know that we are on the island of the wise 

 Prospero and the gentle Miranda ; we hear 

 Ariel, that tricksy spirit, in the tamarisk 

 trees among the ragged rocks by the beach, 

 singing : 



Come unto those yellow sands, 



And then take hands : 



Court sied when you have, and kiss d 



(The wild waves whist,) 



Foot it featly here and there ; 



And, swuot sprites, the burden bear. 



Full fathom five thy father lies ; 



Of his bones are coral made ; 

 Those are pearls that were his eyes ; 



Nothing of him that doth fade, 

 But doth suffer a sea change 

 Into something rich and strange. 

 Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell ; 

 Hark ! now I hear them, ding-dong bell ! 



And we are just as sure that Caliban 

 made his home in the Devil s Hole as we 

 are that his dam s god Setebos once ruled 

 the island. It is simply impossible to real 

 ize that you are on a part of the common 

 work-a-day world. The shell roses and 

 freesias bloom at your feet ; the rich bou- 

 E 



