178 UNDER THE TREES. 



ments of dreams. Here, for instance, in a certain 

 latitude plainly marked on the margin, is that calm 

 sweet land of the Phseacians where reigns Alcinoiis 

 the great-souled king, and the white-armed Nau- 

 sicaa sings after her bath on the river s brink : 



Without the palace court and near the gate 

 A spacious garden of four acres lay ; 

 A hedge inclosed it round, and lofty trees 

 Flourished in generous growth within the pear 

 And the pomegranate, and the apple tree 

 With its fair fruitage, and the luscious fig, 

 And olive always green. The fruit they bear 

 Falls not, nor ever fails in winter time 

 Nor summer, but is yielded all the year. 

 The ever-blowing west wind causes some 

 To swell and some to ripen ; pear succeeds 

 To pear ; to apple, apple, grape to grape, 

 Fig ripens after fig. 



Here, as Rosalind moves her finger, lies the 

 valley of Avalon, whither Arthur went to heal his 

 overmastering sorrow, and where the air is always 

 sweet with the smell of apple blossoms. In this 

 deep wood lives Merlin, still weaving, as of old, the 

 magic spells. There is the castle of the Grail, 

 and as our eyes fall on it, suddenly there comes a 

 hush, and we seem to hear the sublime antiphony, 

 choir answering choir in heavenly melody, as 

 Parsifal raises the cup, and the light from above 

 smites it into sudden glory. We are traveling 

 eastward, touching here and there those names 

 which belong only to the greatest poetry, when Rosa- 



