In Lyonesse was beauty enough, men say: 
Long Summer loaded the orchards to excess, 
And fertile lowlands lengthening far away, 
In Lyonesse. 


Came a term to that land's old favoredness: 
Past the sea-walls, crumbled in thundering spray, 
Rolled the green waves, ravening, merciless. 


Through bearded boughs immobile in cool decay, 
Where sea-bloom covers corroding palaces, 
The mermaid glides with a curious glance to-day, 
In Lyonesse.