Not Aladdin magian Ever such a work began. Not the Wizard of the Dee Ever such a dream could see, Not St. John in Patmos Isle In the passion of his toil When he saw the churches seven Golden-aisled built up in heaven Gaz'd at such a rugged wonder. As I stood its roofing under Lo! I saw one sleeping there On the marble cold and bare. While the surges wash'd his feet And his garments white did beat Drench'd about the sombre rocks, On his neck his well-grown locks Lifted dry above the Main Were upon the curl again-- "What is this? and what art thou?" Whisper'd I, and touch'd his brow; "What art thou? and what is this?" Whisper'd I, and strove to kiss The Spirit's hand, to wake his eyes; Up he started in a trice: "I am Lycidas," said he, "Fam'd in funeral Minstrelsy-- This was architected thus By the great Oceanus. Here his mighty waters play Hollow Organs all the day, Here, by turns, his dolphins all, Finny palmers great and small, Come to pay devotion due-- Each a mouth of pearls must strew! Many a Mortal of these days Dares to pass our sacred ways, Dares to touch, audaciously This Cathedral of the sea-- I have been the Pontiff-priest, Where the Waters never rest, Where a fledgy sea-bird choir Soars for ever--holy fire I have hid from Mortal Man. Proteus is my Sacristan. But the stupid eye of Mortal Hath pass'd beyond the Rocky portal. So for ever will I leave Such a taint and soon unweave All the magic of the place-- 'Tis now free to stupid face-- To cutters and to fashion boats, To cravats and to Petticoats. The great Sea shall war it down, For its fame shall not be blown At every farthing quadrille dance."[79] So saying with a Spirit's glance He dived---- I am sorry I am so indolent as to write such stuff as this. It can't be helped. The western coast of Scotland is a most strange place--it is composed of rocks, Mountains, mountainous and rocky Islands intersected by lochs--you can go but a short distance anywhere from salt water in the highlands. I have a slight sore throat and think it best to stay a day or two at Oban--then we shall proceed to Fort William and Inverness, where I am anxious to be on account of a Letter from you. Brown in his Letters puts down every little circumstance. I should like to do the same, but I confess myself too indolent, and besides next winter everything will come up in prime order as we verge on such and such things.