Where Shall We Land

"_Where shall we land you, sweet_?"--Swinburne.

  All listlessly we float

  Out seaward in the boat

    That beareth Love.

  Our sails of purest snow

  Bend to the blue below

    And to the blue above.

      Where shall we land?

  We drift upon a tide

  Shoreless on every side,

    Save where the eye

  Of Fancy sweeps far lands

  Shelved slopingly with sands

    Of gold and porphyry.

      Where shall we land?

  The fairy isles we see,

  Loom up so mistily--

    So vaguely fair,

  We do not care to break

  Fresh bubbles in our wake

    To bend our course for there.

      Where shall we land?

  The warm winds of the deep

  Have lulled our sails to sleep,

    And so we glide

  Careless of wave or wind,

  Or change of any kind,

    Or turn of any tide.

      Where shall we land?

  We droop our dreamy eyes

  Where our reflection lies

    Steeped in the sea,

  And, in an endless fit

  Of languor, smile on it

    And its sweet mimicry.

      Where shall we land?

  "Where shall we land?" God's grace!

  I know not any place

    So fair as this--

  Swung here between the blue

  Of sea and sky, with you

    To ask me, with a kiss,

      "Where shall we land?"