Now，thoughheknewitnot，thegatesofhisownworldwereclosingbehindtheWandererforever。TotheNorth，whencehecame，laytheclearsky，andthesunnycapesandisles，andtheairymountainsoftheArgivelands，whitewiththetemplesoffamiliarGods。Butinfaceofhim，totheSouth，whitherhewent，wasacloudofdarknessandalandofdarknessitself。Therewerethingstobefallmoremarvellousthanaretoldinanytale；therewastobeawarofthepeoples，andoftheGods，theTrueGodsandtheFalse，andthereheshouldfindthelastembracesofLove，theFalseLoveandtheTrue。
Forebodingsomewhatoftheperilsthatlayinfront，theWandererwastemptedtoshifthiscourseandsailbacktothesunlight。Buthewasonethathadneverturnedhishandfromtheplough，norhisfootfromthepath，andhethoughtthatnowhispathwasfore-ordained。Sohelashedthetillerwitharope，andgropedhiswaywithhishandsalongthedecktillhereachedthealtarofthedwarf-gods，wheretheembersofthesacrificestillwereglowingfaintly。Thenwithhisswordhecutsomespear-shaftsandbrokenarrowsintowhitechips，andwiththemhefilledalittlebrazier，andtakingtheseedoffirefromthealtarsetlighttoitfrombeneath。Presentlythewoodblazedupthroughthenoondaynight，andthefireflickeredandflaredonthefacesofthedeadmenthatlayaboutthedeck，rollingtolarboardandtostarboard，asthevessellurched，andtheflameshoneredonthegoldenarmouroftheWanderer。
Ofallhisvoyagesthiswasthestrangestseafaring，hecruisingalone，withacompanyofthedead，deepintoadarknesswithoutmeasureorbound，toalandthatmightnotbedescried。Strangegustsofsuddenwindblewhimhitherandthither。Thebreezewouldriseinamomentfromanyquarter，anddieassuddenlyasitrose，andanotherwindwouldchaseitoverthechoppingseas。HeknewnotifhesailedSouthorNorth，heknewnothowtimepassed，fortherewasnosightofthesun。Itwasnightwithoutadawn。Yethisheartwasglad，asifhehadbeenaboyagain，fortheoldsorrowswereforgotten，sopotentwasthedraughtofthechaliceoftheGoddess，andsokeenwasthedelightofbattle。
“Endure，myheart，“hecried，asoftenhehadcriedbefore，“aworsethingthanthisthouhastendured，“andhecaughtupalyreofthedeadSidonians，andsang:——
Thoughthelightofthesunbehidden，Thoughhisraceberun，ThoughwesailinaseaforbiddenTothegoldensun: