Below raged the fierce waters, around was the darkness, above the clouded sky and the veiled moon, while amid all this horror hung those three unfortunates to their slender spar, waiting with dread and hope for the morning’s light.
CHAPTER XVI.
MELNOS.
Magic isles of beauty glowing
Far in tideless sapphire seas;
Wanton winds, low breathing, blowing
Perfumes from balsamic trees.
Here no wintry waters freeze;
But the streamlets ever flowing,
Murmur drowsy lullabies,
Which the eyelids close unknowing,