And I was waked by some one singing; I felt very happy; I felt young
again; I had fair delicate raiment on, my sword was gone, and my
armour; I tried to think where I was, and could not for my happiness;
I tried to listen to the words of the song. Nothing, only an old echo
in my ears, only all manner of strange scenes from my wretched past
life before my eyes in a dim, far-off manner: then at last, slowly,
without effort, I heard what she sang.
"Christ keep the Hollow Land
All the summer-tide;
Still we cannot understand
Where the waters glide;
Only dimly seeing them
Coldly slipping through
Many green-lipp'd cavern mouths.
Where the hills are blue."
"Then," she said, "come now and look for it, love, a hollow city in
the Hollow Land."