Fortunate Isles

There are islands, there are islands

On the ocean's heaving breast

Where the honey-scented silence

Broods above the halcyon's nest;

Where the sands are smooth and golden,

And the flowers bloom, one by one,

Unbeloved and unbeholden

Save by the all-seeing sun.

I shall ne'er with friend or lover

Wander on from glade to glade

Through those forests, or discover

Silvery fountains in the shade:

But another's foot shall linger

Mid the bowers whereof I dream,

And perchance a careless finger

Strew the roses on the stream;

Happier men shall pluck the laurel

For the tresses that they love,

And the passionate pale coral

Wreathe round brows I know not of.