104
THAT NEW WORLD.
Yet certain we are, when we see them fade
Out of the pleasant light of the sun,
Of the sands of gold in the palm-leaf's shade,
And the strange, high jewels all these have won.
Out of the pleasant light of the sun,
Of the sands of gold in the palm-leaf's shade,
And the strange, high jewels all these have won.
You dare not doubt it, O soul of mine!
And yet, if these empty eyes could see
One, only one, from that voyage divine,
With something, anything, sure for me!
And yet, if these empty eyes could see
One, only one, from that voyage divine,
With something, anything, sure for me!
Ah, blow me the scent of one lily, to tell
That it grew outside of this world, at most;
Ah, show me a plume to touch, or a shell
That whispers of some unearthly coast!
That it grew outside of this world, at most;
Ah, show me a plume to touch, or a shell
That whispers of some unearthly coast!
