Go view the scene of action whence I draw
  The theme which constitutes my faithful lay;
 Near where a prophet bard a vision saw,
  And sang about it in a by-gone day,
 An Island rises in the stream midway;—
  A lonely isle, where spirits of the drowned,
 Forgetful of their homes, may seem to stray,
  Wet from the chiming waves, whose drowsy sound
Plays dirges round the shores of their enchanted ground.