INSIDE PLUM ISLAND.
11
Sometimes, a sudden fount of light, A sturgeon splashed, and fleetingBehind the sheltering thatch we heard Oars in the rowlocks beating.
But all the rest was silence, save The rippling in the rushes,The gentle gale that struck the sail In fitful swells and gushes.
Silence and summer and the sun, Waking a wizard legion,Wove as we went their ancient spells In this enchanted region.
No spectral care could part the veil Of mist and sunbeams shredded,That everywhere behind us closed The labyrinth we threaded.
Beneath our keel the great sky arched Its liquid light and azure;We swung between two heavens, ensphered Within their charmed embrasure.
