WHERE SHALL WE LAND?

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 be 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?”