They Visit One Doxodox Next morning, we came to a deep, green wood, slowly nodding over the waves; its margin frothy-white with foam.

A charming sight! While delighted, all our paddlers gazed, Media, observing Babbalanja plunged in reveries, called upon him to awake; asking what might so absorb him.
"Ah, my lord! what seraphic sounds have ye driven from me!" "Sounds! Sure, there's naught heard but yonder murmuring surf; what other sound heard you ?" "The thrilling of my soul's monochord, my lord.

But prick not your ears to hear it; that divine harmony is overheard by the rapt spirit alone; it comes not by the auditory nerves." "No more, Azzageddi! No more of that.

Look yonder!" "A most lovely wood, in truth.

And methinks it is here the sage Doxodox, surnamed the Wise One, dwells." "Hark, I hear the hootings of his owls," said Mohi.
"My lord, you must have read of him.