[BNP/E3, 31A – 5]

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Weep violin and viol

     Low flute and fine bassoon.

Lo, an enchanted isle

     Checkered seen-dark i’th’ moon![1]

My dream[2] feet rustle through it

     Chequered by shade and beam.

O could my soul but woo it

     From being but a dream!

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Violin, viol and flute…

     Lo! the isle floats in air!

Through it I wander, mute

     With too much loss of care…

The air in which 't doth float

     No air is but light of moon

Its paths are known to each note

     Of viol and bassoon[3].

Yet is it real that isle,

     As our hard[4] islands mortal?

Do flute, bassoon and viol

     But ope with sound a portal,

And show, to |low-turned| air,[5]

     To what in me doth see

That pendulous island rare

     In (a) |moon‑woven sea|?

Ay it is true and known

     To subtle  truths of dreams

That island {…} and lone

     {…}

That hath real {…} root

     Somewhere known of the Moon

Fades in the silence[6] of flute

     Violin and basson.

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x Ay, it is[7] truer and longer 

     Than islands that are words

And that {…} lone isle {…}

     Unwept by winds and showers

And that hath truth and root

Maybe tis truer than ours.

     That |can be known|… But lo!

That isle unhappy showers

 
[1] Checkered seen-dark i’th’ moon! /[Moon-bound beneath the moon]\
[2] dream/(ed)\
[3] Of viol /low viol\ and bassoon /Of viol and low bassoon\
[4] hard /crude\ /clear\ /seen\
[5] to |low-turned| air, /in pure Elsewhere,\
[6] silence /fading\
[7] it is /and ’tis\