shade;
It glimmers like a spike of lonely pearl
That mirrors beams forlorn and lights that fade;
And sea goes washing round the dark rock where it stands,
And fairy boats go by to gloaming lands
All piled and twinkling in the gloom
With hoarded sparks of orient fire
That divers won in waters of the unknown sun:
And, maybe, âtis a throbbing silver lyre
Or voices of grey sailors echo up,
Afloat among the shadows of the world
In oarless shallop and with canvas furled,
For often seems there ring of feet, or song,
Or twilit twinkle of a trembling gong.â
O! happy mariners upon a journey long
To those great portals on the Western shores
Where, far away, constellate fountains leap,
And dashed against Nightâs dragon-headed doors
In foam of stars fall sparkling in the deep.
While I, alone, look out behind the moon
From in my white and windy tower,
Ye bide no moment and await no hour,
But chanting snatches of a secret tune
Go through the shadows and the dangerous seas
Past sunless lands to fairy leas,
Where stars upon the jacinth wall of space
Do tangle, burst, and interlace.
Ye follow Eärendel through the West â
The Shining Mariner â to islands blest,
While only from beyond that sombre rim
A wind returns to stir these crystal panes,
And murmur magically of golden rains
That fall for ever in those spaces dim.
These last lines, in which a hint of paradise is borne on the air through intervening rains, read almost like a premonition of Elvenhome as it is seen at the end of The Lord of the Rings:
And the ship went out into the High Sea and passed on into the West, until at last on a night of rain Frodo smelled a sweet fragrance on the air and heard the sound of singing that came over the water. And then it seemed to him thatâ¦the grey rain-curtain turned all to silver glass and was rolled back, and he beheld white shores and beyond them a far green country under a swift sunrise.
It is remarkable to see such a moment of vision, or partial vision, established decades before Tolkienâs epic romance was written.
On the other hand, in the context of what he had put in writing by July 1915, âThe Happy Marinersâ contains many apparent enigmas. Some of these are only explicable with the help of the first fully-fledged prose form of Tolkienâs mythology, âThe Book of Lost Talesâ. Its introductory narrative, written in the winter of 1916-17, mentions âthe Sleeper in the Tower of Pearl that stands far out to west in the Twilit Islesâ, who was awoken when one of Eärendelâs companions in the voyage to Kôr sounded a great gong. Further details resurface in a passage written during the two years after the Great War. Then, the world would be visualized as a flat disc surrounded by the deep blue âWall of Thingsâ. The Moon and Sun would pass this wall in their diurnal courses through the basalt Door of Night, carvedwith great dragon-shapes. The âsparks of orient fireâ won by divers âin waters of the unknown sunâ would be explained as the ancient sunlight scattered during attempts to pilot the new-born Sun beneath the roots of the world at night. As Christopher Tolkien notes, âThe Happy Marinersâ was apparently the song of the Sleeper in the Tower of Pearl mentioned in the same passage.
But the story of the Sleeper was never developed, and at this early stage it is not at all clear that Tolkien himself knew exactly what place his images might take within his mythology, any more than he had known exactly who Eärendel was when he first wrote about him. It is possible that in âThe Happy Marinersâ these details are seen at the time of their first emergence into his consciousness and that he then set about âdiscoveringâ their significance.
Eärendelâs poetic function here is quite different to what it was in âThe Voyage of Ãarendel the Evening Starâ, written ten