"Her course was for the British strand; Her freight, it was a Damsel peerless; 80 God reigns above, and Spirits strong May gather to avenge this wrong Done to the Princess, and her Land Which she in duty left, sad but not cheerless.[669] "And to Caerleon's loftiest tower 85 Soon will the Knights of Arthur's Table A cry of lamentation send; And all will weep who there attend, To grace that Stranger's bridal hour, For whom the sea was made unnavigable. 90 "Shame! should a Child of royal line Die through the blindness of thy malice?" Thus to the Necromancer spake Nina, the Lady of the Lake, A gentle Sorceress, and benign, 95 Who ne'er embittered any good man's chalice. "What boots," continued she, "to mourn? To expiate thy sin endeavour: From the bleak isle where she is laid, Fetched by our art, the Egyptian Maid 100 May yet to Arthur's court be borne Cold as she is, ere life be fled for ever. "My pearly Boat, a shining Light, That brought me down that sunless river, Will bear me on from wave to wave, 105 And back with her to this sea-cave;-- Then Merlin! for a rapid flight Through air, to thee my Charge will I deliver. "The very swiftest of thy cars Must, when my part is done, be ready; 110 Meanwhile, for further guidance, look Into thy own prophetic book; And, if that fail, consult the Stars To learn thy course; farewell! be prompt and steady." This scarcely spoken, she again 115 Was seated in her gleaming shallop, That, o'er the yet-distempered Deep, Pursued its way with bird-like sweep, Or like a steed, without a rein, Urged o'er the wilderness in sportive gallop. 120 Soon did the gentle Nina reach That Isle without a house or haven; Landing, she found not what she sought, Nor saw of wreck or ruin aught But a carved Lotus cast upon the beach[670] 125 By the fierce waves, a flower in marble graven. Sad relique, but how fair the while! For gently each from each retreating With backward curve, the leaves revealed The bosom half, and half concealed, 130 Of a Divinity, that seemed to smile On Nina, as she passed, with hopeful greeting. No quest was hers of vague desire, Of tortured hope and purpose shaken; Following the margin of a bay, 135 She spied the lonely Cast-away, Unmarred, unstripped of her attire, But with closed eyes,--of breath and bloom forsaken.