CIII.
             
        On that last night before we went
            From out the doors where I was bred,
            I dream’d a vision of the dead,
        Which left my after-morn content.

        Methought I dwelt within a hall,
            And maidens with me: distant hills
            From hidden summits fed with rills
        A river sliding by the wall.

        The hall with harp and carol rang.
            They sang of what is wise and good
            And graceful. In the centre stood
        A statue veil’d, to which they sang;

        And which, tho’ veil’d, was known to me,
            The shape of him I loved, and love
            For ever: then flew in a dove
        And brought a summons from the sea:

        And when they learnt that I must go
            They wept and wail’d, but led the way
            To where a little shallop lay
        At anchor in the flood below;

        And on by many a level mead,
            And shadowing bluff that made the banks,
            We glided winding under ranks
        Of iris, and the golden reed;

        And still as vaster grew the shore
            And roll’d the floods in grander space,
            The maidens gather’d strength and grace
        And presence, lordlier than before;

        And I myself, who sat apart
            And watch’d them, wax’d in every limb;
            I felt the thews of Anakim,
        The pulses of a Titan’s heart;

        As one would sing the death of war,
            And one would chant the history
            Of that great race, which is to be,
        And one the shaping of a star;

        Until the forward-creeping tides
            Began to foam, and we to draw
            From deep to deep, to where we saw
        A great ship lift her shining sides.

        The man we loved was there on deck,
            But thrice as large as man he bent
            To greet us. Up the side I went,
        And fell in silence on his neck:

        Whereat those maidens with one mind
            Bewail’d their lot; I did them wrong:
            ‘We served thee here’ they said, ‘so long,
        And wilt thou leave us now behind?’

        So rapt I was, they could not win
            An answer from my lips, but he
            Replying, ‘Enter likewise ye
        And go with us:’ they enter’d in.

        And while the wind began to sweep
            A music out of sheet and shroud,
            We steer’d her toward a crimson cloud
        That landlike slept along the deep.