But oh ! that deep romantic chasm which slanted
    Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover !
    A savage place ! as holy and enchanted
    As e’er beneath a waning moon was haunted
    By woman wailing for her demon-lover !
    And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,
    As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing,
    A mighty fountain momently was forced :
    Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst
    Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail,
    Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher’s flail :
    And ‘mid these dancing rocks at once and ever
    It flung up momently the sacred river.
    Five miles meandering with a mazy motion
    Through wood and dale the sacred river ran,
    Then reached the caverns measureless to man,
    And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean :
    And ‘mid this tumult Kubla heard from far
    Ancestral voices prophesying war !

    The shadow of the dome of pleasure
    Floated midway on the waves ;
    Where was heard the mingled measure
    From the fountain and the caves.
It was a miracle of rare device,
A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice !
    A damsel with a dulcimer
    In a vision once I saw :
    It was an Abyssinian maid,
    And on her dulcimer she played,
    Singing of Mount Abora.
    Could I revive within me
    Her symphony and song,
    To such a deep delight ‘twould win me,
That with music loud and long,
I would build that dome in air,
That sunny dome ! those caves of ice !
And all who heard should see them there,
And all should cry, Beware ! Beware !
His flashing eyes, his floating hair !
Weave a circle round him thrice,
And close your eyes with holy dread,
For he on honey-dew hath fed,
And drunk the milk of Paradise.

Samuel Taylor Coleridge 1797

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“Beyond the Aquilon one finds a blessed nation called, according to tradition, the Hypeboreans. Among them, men reach an extreme age. Many marvels are told of this people. Some say that the hinges of the world and the limit of the course of the stars lie in their region… The country is bathed in sunlight and enjoys a pleasant temperature…”
“Discord is there ignored, and so is disease. People there do not die but from the satiety of living. After a festive banquet, full of the joys of old age, the one who wants to die jumps into the seas from a lofty rock. Such is for them the happiest way to die. One cannot doubt the reality of this country, described by many authorities.”
Pliny, in the above passage, also adds that Hyperborea was the realm of Apollo and that the Hyperboreans sent, from the island of Delos, the first-fruits of their crops to Greece, to be dedicated to the Sun God

Pliny’s Hyperborea also evokes the description of the island of Emain Abalach (Avalon) in Celtic poems:.
Treason is there unknown and so is sadness.
There no pain, no regret, no death, no grief,
No disease, no weakness, ever afflict anyone.
For such is the fortune of Emain.

Another a similar Celtic poem adds:
What a wonderful country is this one!
There the young never grow old at all!

Avalon, Hyperborea, Thule, Taprobane, Eden, Paradise, Emain Abalach, the Garden of the Golden Apples, the Garden of Idun  etc. are all one and the same thing. Their connection with the “first fruits” is an allegoric reference to the fact that Atlantis.MU  was indeed the very first site of human civilization, the same as the legendary Paradise or Garden of Eden.
These pleasant, luxurious gardens all lay at the extremity of the world which, from the Celtic perspective in Brittany was  located on the side of the world opposite to their own misty islands. This Paradise was destroyed by a cataclysm, and they were forced to leave it, emigrating to the far Occident, under the leadership of Hu Gadarn, the Celtic Noah, the Judeo-Christian hero of the Flood
The sinking of this realm is told in the legend of the Flooding of Ys, another central tradition of Celtic mythology. And their sunken Paradise became the Land of the Dead, the “Tomb of Glass” (Glastonbury) or “Island of Glass” (Ynis Wydr) that we encounter so often in their Celtic legends. This dismal Hades is the same as the Cimmeria of the Greeks, the Hanebut of the Egyptians, the Sheol of the Jews and the Nefelheim of the Germanic Nations.

When this blonde haired/red haired, blue eyed race  survived the Atlantean/Mu  cataclysm they emigrated to the distant Occident in their ships — under the guidance of admirals like Aeneas, Hercules, Phoroneos, and Hu Gadarn and, perhaps, Noah, Canopus and Jason — they settled in colonies along the way, on every coast and every island that looked promising. The legends are certainly founded in actual fact, and these fleets of ocean worth vessels are the ones allegorized as the Ark of Noah in the Bible or as the Argonavis in Greek legends.

It was thus that Mauritania was settled by the Berbers, Lebanon by the Phoenicians, Crete by the Minoans, Italy by the Etruscans, the British Islands and Brittany by the Celts and, of course, the Canaries by the Guanches. Many of these emigrants were, as is usually the case, mere passengers who never knew how to sail or, even less, how to design and build sea-worthy ships strong enough to sail the open, rough ocean, a feat very hard to accomplish in antiquity. Such huge sailships — the “ships of Tarshish” of Biblical traditions — are attested from remotest antiquity, for instance in the Gerzean ceramics of pre-Dynastic Egypt,

In this way, the Guanches were stranded on the Canaries, and the enigma which has defied solution for millennia is naturally explained. The ancient peripluses like those of Hanno and Himilco relate similar expeditions and even the establishment of such insular colonies. Such is also the meaning of myths like the one of Aeneas and his fleet fleeing from the destroyed, sunken Troy or, also, of the Biblical relate of Noah and his clan repeopling the Islands of the Nations, and founding the different nations of mankind.

Ref:  Arysio Nunes dos Santos, Forbidden Research

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