| |
| THEY called the islands by his name, | |
| Those isles, the far away and fair; | |
| A graceful fancy linked with fame, | |
| A flattery—such as poets’ are, | |
| |
| Who link with lovely things their praise, | 5 |
| And ask the earth, and ask the sky, | |
| To color with themselves their lays, | |
| And some associate grace supply. | |
| |
| But here it was a sailor’s thought, | |
| That named the island from the earl, | 10 |
| That dreams of England might be brought | |
| To those soft shores and seas of pearl. | |
| |
| How very fair they must have seemed | |
| When first they darkened on the deep! | |
| Like all the wandering seaman dreamed, | 15 |
| When land rose lovely on his sleep. | |
| |
| How many dreams they turned to truth | |
| When first they met the sailor’s eyes; | |
| Green with the sweet earth’s southern youth, | |
| And azure with her southern skies. | 20 |
| |
| And yet our English thought beguiles | |
| The mariner where’er he roam; | |
| He looks upon the new-found isles, | |
| And calls them by some name of home. | |
| |
