the enchanted forest

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
this is about an enchanted forest in rathlin isle in ireland

Submitted: March 05, 2008

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Submitted: March 05, 2008



To Rathlin’s Isle I chanced to sail

When summer breezes softly blew,

And there I heard so sweet a tale,

That oft I wish it could be true.

They say at eve when rude winds sleep,

And hushed is every turbid swell,

A mermaid rises from the deep,

And sweetly tunes her magic shell.

And while she plays, rock dell and cave

In dying falls the sound retain,

As if some choral spirits gave

Their aid to swell her witching strain.

Then summoned by the dulcet note,

Uprising to the admiring view,

A fairy island seems to float

With tints of many a gorgeous hue.

And glittering fanes, and lofty towers

All in this fairy isle are seen;

And wavy trees and shady bowers,

With more then mortal verdure greens.

And as it moves the western sky

Glows with a thousand varying rays;

And the calm sea tinges with each dye,

Seems like a golden flood of blaze.

They also say if earth or stone,

From verdant Erin’s hallowed land,

Were on this magic island thrown,

For ever fixed,it then would stand,

But, when for this,some little boat

In silence ventures form the shore-

The mermaid sinks-hushed is the note

The fairy island is seen no more

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