CHAPTER LXIII.
They Seek Through The Isles Of Palms; And Pass The Isles Of Myrrh Now, our prows we turned due west, across the blue lagoon.
Soon, no land appeared.

Far as the eye could sweep, one azure plain; all over flaked with foamy fleeces:--a boundless flock upon a boundless mead! Again, all changed.

Like stars in multitude, bright islets multiplied around.

Emerald-green, they dotted shapes fantastic: circles, arcs, and crescents;--atolls all, or coral carcanets, begemmed and flashing in the sun.
By these we glided, group after group; and through the foliage, spied sweet forms of maidens, like Eves in Edens ere the Fall, or Proserpines in Ennas.

Artless airs came from the shore; and from the censer-swinging roses, a bloom, as if from Hebe's cheek.
"Here, at last, we find sweet Yillah!" murmured Yoomy.