The Passage to the New World

THE PASSAGE: PUBLISHED

THE PASSING OF THE ELVES: MANUSCRIPT

The Northern seas are cold and cruel grey; Across them sailed the fair tall Elven folk. Southward, the seas are blue, serene and warm; From that soft mist, with many a merry joke; Sweet Spirits came. From West, at close of day, Beneath sails brilliant as a peacock's fan, Djinni arrived. From sunrise and through storm, Across the Eastern ocean, last came-Man. Not so awfully long ago, as the stars, who created time, tell it, the Fair People withdrew from the Old World (which they called the Middle Kingdom), migrating across the Ocean Sea to dwell in the hills and forests of the New Found Land. The first to set foot on its shore (if he said so himself, in the saga he often sang) was Ruddy Alf, a copper-haired Sea-Troll of Nortland. It was he, he bragged, who left Scandia to brave alone the teeth of the Hell-hounds at sheer cliff's lip of the flat Earth's edge; he the hero who pressed a single print from his reindeer-hide boots on the beach there, and he who came back to harp on it. Next, or simultaneously, or (to hear his kin and clan tell of it) years and years before, was Brandan, a Leprechaun from Kerry, who zigzagged all the way from the tip of the Dingle to the Brave New World in a sealskin canoe, with naught but poteen for provender. But most of the Fair People deemed the exploits of Alf and Brandan to be mere myth (even Legends, it seems, look down on legends) and attributed the Discovery of the New Found Land to the Italian fairy Colon Savanelli, an intrepidly nautical Folleto out of Genoa. Savanelli had been commissioned by the Queen of the Iberian Hadas (that is, the Spanish Fays) to Seek the fabulous Spice Islands. Once found, she Hoped that they would become a foster homeland for her subjects, and indeed, for all the Fair People of the Middle Kingdom whose Era, she feared, was Coming to its end. And it was.

The Northern seas are cold and cruel grey; Across them sailed the stern tall Elven-folk. Southward, the seas are blue, serene and warm; From that soft mist, with many a merry joke, The Dark Ones came. From West, at close of day, Beneath sails brilliant as a peacock's fan, Spirits arrived. From sunrise and through storm Across the Eastern ocean, last came -Man. Not so awfully long ago, as the stars, who created time, tell it, the Fair People withdrew from the Old World, (which they called The Middle Kingdom), migrating across the Ocean Sea to dwell in the hills and forests of the New Found Land. The first to set foot on its shore (if he said so him- self, in the saga he sang of it often) was Ruddy Alf, a copper- haired Sea Troll of Nortland. He it was, he bragged, who braved alone the teeth of the Hel- hounds at sheer cliff's lip of the flat Earth's Edge, he the hero who pressed a single reindeer- hide boot-print on the beach there, and he who came back to harp on it. Next, or simultaneously, or (to hear his kin and clan tell of it) years and years before, was Brandan, a Fir Bolg from Kerry, who zig-zagged all the way West in a seal-skin canoe, with naught but poteen for provender, from the tip of the Dingle to the Brave New World. But most of the Fair People deemed the exploits of Alf and Cluricaune to be mere myth (even Legends, it seems, look down on legends) and attributed the Discovery of the New Found Land to Colon Savanelli, an intrepidly nautical Folleto out of Genoa. Savanelli had been commissioned by the Queen of the Hadas (that is, the Iberian Fays) to seek the fabulous Spice Islands. She hoped that, once found, they would become a foster homeland for her subjects; and, indeed, for all the Fair People of the Middle Kingdom, whose Era, she feared, was coming to its end. And it was.