
When I set out for Lyonesse by Thomas Hardy.
When I set out for Lyonesse, A hundred miles away, The rime was on the spray,
And starlight lit my lonesomeness, When I set out for Lyonesse, A hundred miles away.
What would bechance at Lyonesse, While I should sojourn there, No prophet durst declare,
Nor could the wisest wizard guess, What would bechance at Lyonesse, While I should sojourn there.
When I came back from Lyonesse, With magic in my eyes, All marked with mute surmise,
My radiance rare and fathomless, When I came back from Lyonesse, With magic in my eyes!
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