185
Peregrina:
So farewell,
For I withdraw me to my island home.
Ombrage:
You pass, you leave us?
Peregrina:
Yonder lies my barque,
Twinning herself upon the crystal tide,
So clear so sharp her mere reflection.
You wonder which is shadow, and which is ship,
If both be real or both a fantasy
Moulded of magic this mid-August eve,
And I must pass upon that galley of dream
To my fair island of unfading May
Set in a sea of sempiternal Spring.
Follow me, find me, thro' the ivory gate
Lies the way thither, to the happy land,
The fortunate isle where the dearest dream comes true!
