the glory of Bar-Wul-Yann was gone, yet still the pink cliffs glowed,
the fairest marvel that the eye beheld--and this in a land of wonders.
And soon the twilight gave place to the coming out of stars, and the
colours of Bar-Wul-Yann went dwindling away. And the sight of those
cliffs was to me as some chord of music that a master's hand had
launched from the violin, and which carries to Heaven or Faery the
tremulous spirits of men.

And now by the shore they anchored and went no further, for they were
sailors of the river and not of the sea, and knew the Yann but not the
tides beyond.

And the time was come when the captain and I must part, he to go back
again to his fair Belzoond in sight of the distant peaks of the Hian
Min, and I to find my way by strange means back to those hazy fields
that all poets know, wherein stand small mysterious cottages through
whose windows, looking westwards, you may see the fields of men, and
looking eastwards see glittering elfin mountains, tipped with snow,
going range on range into the region of Myth, and beyond it into the
kingdom of Fantasy, which pertain to the Lands of Dream.

Long we regarded one another, knowing that we should meet no more, for
my fancy is weakening as the years slip by, and I go ever more seldom
into the Lands of Dream. Then we clasped hands, uncouthly on his part,
for it is not the method of greeting in his country, and he commended
my soul to the care of his own gods, to his little lesser gods, the
humble ones, to the gods that bless Belzoond.