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ATLANTIS.
II.Unkinged, Atlantis, are thy hapless guests; They mourn, they wail for thee through ice-wrought caves;By torrid isles they lift sea-burdened breasts, They fail with grief, they sink in sobbing waves. Ah, their rich temples loud with singing slaves—Their tribute-yielding people prone to kneel! Ah, their broad realm! the pathless deep it paves;O'er its bold mountains reef-torn vessels reel:No minstrels chant its woe and none recite its weal.
III.Lo! yet our marvel-loving souls have caught That old belief profanely scoffed as vain,—"Beyond the heights of Hercules, 't is thought, Of yore an island gorged the whelming main: In sooth strange dyes the stagnant waters stain,And all seafarers of the West aver,
