silver pinnacles,—­
    That in them were expanded halls of light—­
    Vast chambers—­with such gorgeous, fretted roofs
    And shining floors, as wearied human sight;
    That fountains filled them with a slumberous sound;
    And curtains, wrought of silver-threaded frost,
    Were looped with priceless pearls from room to room;—­
    A home for all the spirits of the Good
    Lost in the pitiless sea,—­where they would bathe
    Their thoughts in heaven’s splendor, looking out
    The golden windows towards the constant sun,
    Shining, unceasing, slant against their brows.

    “But, as I nearer drew, I lost that dream
    In one more gloomy.  They did seem to shape
    Themselves to living giants; lifting high
    Their frowning foreheads, crowned with fiery crowns. 
    As lower sank the sun towards the sea,
    Gloomier did they grow, with their white hair
    And lifted spears, walking with mighty steps
    The creaking floor of the unsteady deep.—­
    Nodding defiantly at one another—­
    Meeting, with crashing spears and splintered shields,
    With hoarse cries, breast to breast, in angry strife;
    Their armor shivered at their feet, the sea
    Broken beneath their tread and shuddering
    At the great shock.

                        “More thick these terrors grew;
    Broad fields stretched out in many a frozen ridge;
    While far beyond were paths of printless snow. 
    The ocean lay behind; and yet my boat
    Moved ever onward, up a watery isle,
    Opening, like a deep river, through the ice. 
    A shadowy land spread out on either side,
    Where, moveless as some black and brooding bird,
    Night hovered, silent, vast, and wonderful. 
    Thy Heralds, the North-Lights, did startle me
    Into new wonder by their glowing shapes,
    Swift rushing down the sky, those phantasms wild,
    Flushing, and paling in their measureless speed.

    “At length I drifted into a new sea,
    Where all was calm and warm, and where no tower
    Of ragged ice upreared itself.  On, on
    I floated, while some lovely fantasy
    Seemed stealing my true sense—­so fair the scene. 
    Huge lillies, which no tropic land might boast,
    Slept on the water—­like embodied moonlight;
    A mellow lustre bathed all things; sweet birds
    With rainbow plumage fluttered through the air,
    And this fair island dawned upon my sight. 
    Soon on the shore rested my vessel’s prow,
    And I, ascending the bright paths which spread
    Through bowers of wond’rous beauty, came to thee,
    The central light of all this loveliness. 
    This is my sin, if thou wilt judge it such. 
    But love, the fondest that did ever throb
    In the warm heart of any mortal maid,
    It was, which brought me.  It must be, sweet Queen