Till, round after round, 170
He climbed to the top of Calvano,
        And God’s own profound
Was above me, and round me the mountains,
        And under, the sea,
And within me my heart to bear witness
        What was and shall be.

Oh, heaven and the terrible crystal! 
        No rampart excludes
Your eye from the life to be lived
        In the blue solitudes. 180
Oh, those mountains, their infinite movement! 
        Still moving with you;
For, ever some new head and breast of them
        Thrusts into view
To observe the intruder; you see it
        If quickly you turn
And, before they escape you surprise them. 
        They grudge you should learn
How the soft plains they look on, lean over
        And love (they pretend) 190
—­Cower beneath them, the flat sea-pine crouches,
        The wild fruit-trees bend,
E’en the myrtle-leaves curl, shrink and shut: 
        All is silent and grave: 
’Tis a sensual and timorous beauty,
        How fair! but a slave. 
So, I turned to the sea; and there slumbered
        As greenly as ever
Those isles of the siren, your Galli;
        No ages can sever 200
The Three, nor enable their sister
        To join them,—­halfway
On the voyage, she looked at Ulysses—­
        No farther to-day,
Tho’ the small one, just launched in the wave,
        Watches breast-high and steady
>From under the rock, her bold sister
        Swum halfway already. 
Fort, shall we sail there together
        And see from the sides 210
Quite new rocks show their faces, new haunts
        Where the siren abides? 
Shall we sail round and round them, close over
        The rocks, tho’ unseen,
That ruffle the grey glassy water
        To glorious green? 
Then scramble from splinter to splinter,
        Reach land and explore,
On the largest, the strange square black turret
        With never a door, 220
Just a loop to admit the quick lizards;
        Then, stand there and hear
The birds’ quiet singing, that tells us
        What life is, so clear? 
—­The secret they sang to Ulysses
        When, ages ago,
He heard and he knew this life’s secret
        I hear and I know.

Ah, see!  The sun breaks o’er Calvano;
        He strikes the great gloom 230
And flutters it o’er the mount’s summit
        In airy gold fume. 
All is over.  Look out, see the gipsy,
        Our tinker and smith,
Has arrived, set up bellows and forge,
        And down-squatted forthwith
To his hammering, under the wall there;
        One eye keeps aloof
The urchins that itch to be putting