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IX. And we passed the Isle of Witches, and heard their musical
cry: “Come to us, 0 come, come!” in the stormy red of a sky Dashing the fires and the shadows of dawn on the beautiful
shapes, For a wild witch naked as heaven stood on each of the
And a hundred ranged on the rock like white sea-birds in a
row, And a hundred gambold and pranced on the wrecks in the
sand below, And a hundred splash'd from the ledges, and bosom’d the
burst of the spray, But I knew we should fall on each other, and hastily sail'd
And we came in an evil time to the Isle of the Double
Towers : One was of smooth-cut stone, one carved all over with
flowers : But an earthquake always moved in the hollows under the
dells, And they shock'd on each other and butted each other with
clashing of bells, And the daws flew out of the Towers and jangled and
wrangled in vain, And the clash and boom of the bells rang into the heart and
the brain, Till the passion of battle was on us, and all took sides with
the Towers, There were some for the clean-cut stone, there were more
for the carven flowers, And the wrathful thunder of God peal'd over us all the day, For the one half slew the other, and after we sail'd away.
And we came to the Isle of a Saint who had sail'd with St.
Brendan of yore ; He had lived ever since on the isle, and his winters were
fifteen score, And his voice was low as from other worlds, and his eyes
were sweet, And his white hair sank to his heels, and his white beard fell
to his feet, And he spake to me: “O Maeldune, let be this purpose of
thine! Remember the words of the Lord when he told us 'Venge
ance is mine!' His fathers have slain thy fathers in war or in single strife, Thy fathers have slain his fathers, each taken a life for a
life; Thy father had slain his father—how long shall the murder
last ? Go back to the Isle of Finn and suffer the Past to be Past." And we kiss'd the fringe of his beard, and we pray'd as we
heard him pray, And the holy man he assoil'd us, and sadly we sail'd away.
XII. And we came to the Isle we were blown from, and there on
the shore was he, The man that had slain my father. I saw him and let him
be. O weary was I of the travel, the trouble, the strife, and the
sin, When I landed again, with a tithe of my men, on the Isle of
BY ROBERT SOUTHEY.
WINTER hath passed away; the vernal storms
Take me to be your page.
The boy was fair ; and though his eyes were swoln,
Where wert thou, Caradoc, when that fair boy Told his false tale? for, hadst thou heard the voice, The gentle voice, so musically sweet, And seen that earnest eye, it would have healed Thy wounded heart, and thou hadst voyaged on, The happiest man that ever yet forsook His native country. He, on board the bark, Leaned o’er the vessel-side, and there he stood And gazed, almost unconscious that he gazed, Toward
distant mountains where she dweltSenena, his beloved. Caradoc, Senena, thy beloved, is at hand, Her golden locks are clipped, and her blue eye Is wandering through the throng in search of thee, For whose dear sake she hath forsaken all. You deem her false, that her frail constancy Shrunk from her father's anger, that she lives Another's victim-bride : but she hath fled From that unnatural anger-hath escaped The unnatural union; she is on the shore, Senena, blue-eyed maid, a seemly boy, To share thy fortunes, to reward thy love, And to the land of peace to follow thee, Over the ocean-waves.
Now all is done. Stores, beeves and flocks and water, all aboard ; The dry East blows, and not a sign of change Stains the clear firmament. The Sea Lord sate At the last banquet in his brother's court, And heard the song. It told of Owen's fame, When with his Normen and assembled force Of Guienne and Gascony, and Anjou's strength, The Fleming's aid, and England's chosen troops, Along the ascent of Berwyn, many a day The Saxon vainly on his mountain foes Denounced his wrath; for Mona's dragon-sons,
By wary patience, baffled long his force,