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Updated: May 19, 2025
The heart there, as here, will yearn for some blessed seat "Where falls not hail, or rain, or any snow, Nor ever wind blows loudly; but it lies Deep-meadow'd, happy, fair with orchard lawns And bowery hollows crown'd with summer sea," and still, after your keel touches the strand of that alluring old world, you must buy your ticket and register your trunk for somewhere in particular.
A remark of Margaret's that it was a splendid day for a picnic and that the country looked nice gave him his opportunity. 'It reminds me, he said, 'it reminds me strongly of the Island-Valley of Avilion, where falls not hail, or rain, or any snow, nor ever wind blows loudly; but it lies deep-meadow'd, happy, fair, with orchard lawns....
The heart there, as here, will yearn for some blessed seat "Where falls not hail, or rain, or any snow, Nor ever wind blows loudly; but it lies Deep-meadow'd, happy, fair with orchard lawns And bowery hollows crown'd with summer sea," and still, after your keel touches the strand of that alluring old world, you must buy your ticket and register your trunk for somewhere in particular.
But if we go to Scotland next year, we shall doubtless believe just as firmly that Arthur rests there, in spite of the record at Glastonbury, in spite even of Tennyson: "... the island valley of Avilon; Where falls not hail, or rain, or any snow, Nor ever wind blows loudly; but it lies Deep-meadow'd, happy, fair with orchard-lawns And bowery hollows crown'd with summer sea, Where I will heal me of my grievous wound."
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