And we came to the Isle of Fruits: all round from the cliffs and the capes, Purple or amber dangled a hundred fathom of grapes, And the warm melon lay, like a little sun, on the tawny sand, And the fig ran up from the beach, and rioted over the land, And the mountain arose, like a jewelled throne thro' the fragrant air, Glowing with all-coloured plums, and with golden masses of pear, And the crimson and scarlet of berries that flamed upon bine and vine, But in every berry and fruit was the poisonous pleasure of wine: And the peak of the mountain was apples, the hugest that ever were seen, And they prest, as they grew, on each other, with hardly a leaflet between. And all of them redder than rosiest health, or than utterest shame, And setting, when Even descended, the very sunset aflame. And we stay'd three days, and we gorged and we madden'd till everyone drew His sword on his fellow to slay him, and ever they struck and they slew; And myself I had eaten but sparsely, and fought till I sunder'd the fray, Then I bade them remember my father's death, and we sail'd away.
And we came to the Isle of Fire: we were lured by the light from afar, For the peak sent up one league of fire to the Northern Star; Lured by the glare and the blare, but scarcely could stand upright, For the whole isle shudder'd and shook, like a man in a mortal affright; We were giddy, besides, with the fruits we had gorged, and so crazed that at last, There were some leap'd into the fire; and away we sail'd, and we past Over that undersea isle, where the water is clearer than air: Down we look'd: what a garden! Oh, bliss, what a Paradise there! Towers of a happier time, low down in a rainbow deep Silent palaces, quiet fields of eternal sleep! And three of the gentlest and best of my people, whate'er I could say, Plunged head down in the sea, and the Paradise trembled away.
And we came to the Bounteous Isle, where the heavens lean low on the land, And ever at dawn from the cloud glitter'd o'er us a sun-bright hand, Then it opened, and dropped at the side of each man, as he rose from his rest, Bread enough for his need till the labourless day dipt under the West; And we wandered about it, and thro' it. Oh, never was time so good! And we sang of the triumphs of Finn, and the boast of our ancient blood, And we gazed at the wandering wave, as we sat by the gurgle of springs, And we chanted the songs of the Bards and the glories of fairy kings; But at length we began to be weary, to sigh, and to stretch and yawn, Till we hated the Bounteous Isle, and the sun-bright hand of the dawn, For there was not an enemy near, but the whole green isle was our own, And we took to playing at ball, and we took to throwing the stone, And we took to playing at battle, but that was a perilous play, For the passion of battle was in us, we slew and we sail'd away.