III.

There are strange delights for mortal men in that island of the west; The sun comes down each evening in its lovely vales to rest: And though far and dim On the ocean’s rim It seems to mortal view, We shall reach its halls Ere the evening falls, In my strong and swift canoe: And evermore That verdant shore Our happy home shall be; The land of rest, In the golden west, On the verge of the azure sea!