MANY a green isle needs must be
In the deep wide sea of Misery
Or the mariner worn and wan
Never thus could voyage on
Day and night and night and day
Drifting on his dreary way
With the solid darkness
Closing round his vessel's track；
Whilst above the sunless sky
Big with clouds hangs heavily
And behind the tempest fleet
Hurries on with lightning feet
Riving sail and cord and plank
Till the ship has almost drank
Death from the o'er-brimming deep
And sinks down down like that sleep
When the dreamer seems to be
Weltering through eternity；
And the dim low line before
Of a dark and distant shore
Still recedes as ever still
Longing with divided will
But no power to seek or shun
He is ever drifted on
O'er the unreposing wave
To the haven of the grave.
Ay many flowering islands lie
In the waters of wide Agony：
To such a one this morn was led
My bark by soft winds piloted.
—'Mid the mountains Euganean
I stood listening to the p？an
With which the legion'd rooks did hail
The Sun's uprise majestical：
Gathering round with wings all hoar
Through the dewy mist they soar
Like gray shades till the eastern heaven
Bursts； and then—as clouds of even
Fleck'd with fire and azure lie
In the unfathomable sky—
So their plumes of purple grain
Starr'd with drops of golden rain
Gleam above the sunlight woods
As in silent multitudes
On the morning's fitful gale
Through the broken mist they sail；
And the vapours cloven and gleaming
Follow down the dark steep streaming
Till all is bright and clear and still
Round the solitary hill.
Beneath is spread like a green sea
The waveless plain of Lombardy
Bounded by the vaporous air
Islanded by cities fair；
Underneath day's azure eyes
Ocean's nursling Venice lies —
A peopled labyrinth of walls
Amphitrite's destined halls
Which her hoary sire now paves
With his blue and beaming waves.
Lo！ the sun upsprings behind
Broad red radiant half-reclined
On the level quivering line
Of the waters crystalline；
And before that chasm of light
As within a furnace bright
Column tower and dome and spire
Shine like obelisks of fire
Pointing with inconstant motion
From the altar of dark ocean
To the sapphire-tinted skies；
As the flames of sacrifice
From the marble shrines did rise
As to pierce the dome of gold
Where Apollo spoke of old.
Sun-girt City！ thou hast been
Ocean's child and then his queen；
Now is come a darker day
And thou soon must be his prey
If the power that raised thee here
Hallow so thy watery bier.
A less drear ruin then than now
With thy conquest-branded brow
Stooping to the slave of slaves
From thy throne among the waves
Wilt thou be—when the sea-mew
Flies as once before it flew
O'er thine isles depopulate
And all is in its ancient state
Save where many a palace-gate
With green sea-flowers overgrown
Like a rock of ocean's own
Topples o'er the abandon'd sea
As the tides change sullenly.
The fisher on his watery way
Wandering at the close of day
Will spread his sail and seize his oar
Till he pass the gloomy shore
Lest thy dead should from their sleep
Bursting o'er the starlight deep
Lead a rapid masque of death
O'er the waters of his path.
Noon descends around me now：
'Tis the noon of autumn's glow
When a soft and purple mist
Like a vaporous amethyst
Or an air-dissolvèd star
Mingling light and fragrance far
From the curved horizon's bound
To the point of heaven's profound
Fills the overflowing sky
And the plains that silent lie
Underneath； the leaves unsodden
Where the infant Frost has trodden
With his morning-wingèd feet
Whose bright print is gleaming yet；
And the red and golden vines
Piercing with their trellised lines
The rough dark-skirted wilderness；
The dun and bladed grass no less
Pointing from this hoary tower
In the windless air； the flower
Glimmering at my feet； the line
Of the olive-sandall'd Apennine
In the south dimly islanded；
And the Alps whose snows are spread
High between the clouds and sun；
And of living things each one；
And my spirit which so long
Darken'd this swift stream of song —
Interpenetrated lie
By the glory of the sky；
Be it love light harmony
Odour or the soul of all
Which from heaven like dew doth fall
Or the mind which feeds this verse
Peopling the lone universe.
Noon descends and after noon
Autumn's evening meets me soon
Leading the infantine moon
And that one star which to her
Almost seems to minister
Half the crimson light she brings
From the sunset's radiant springs：
And the soft dreams of the morn
（Which like wingèd winds had borne
To that silent isle which lies
'Mid remember'd agonies
The frail bark of this lone being）
Pass to other sufferers fleeing
And its ancient pilot Pain
Sits beside the helm again.
Other flowering isles must be
In the sea of Life and Agony：
Other spirits float and flee
O'er that gulf： ev'n now perhaps
On some rock the wild wave wraps
With folding wings they waiting sit
For my bark to pilot it
To some calm and blooming cove
Where for me and those I love
May a windless bower be built
Far from passion pain and guilt
In a dell 'mid lawny hills
Which the wild sea-murmur fills
And soft sunshine and the sound
Of old forests echoing round
And the light and smell divine
Of all flowers that breathe and shine.
—We may live so happy there
That the Spirits of the Air
Envying us may ev'n entice
To our healing paradise
The polluting multitude：
But their rage would be subdued
By that clime divine and calm
And the winds whose wings rain balm
On the uplifted soul and leaves
Under which the bright sea heaves；
While each breathless interval
In their whisperings musical
The inspirèd soul supplies
With its own deep melodies；
And the Love which heals all strife
Circling like the breath of life
All things in that sweet abode
With its own mild brotherhood：—
They not it would change； and soon
Every sprite beneath the moon
Would repent its envy vain
And the Earth grow young again！