NOW, when the street-pent airs blow stale A longing stirs us as of yore To take the old Odyssian trail, To bend upon the trireme's oar For isléd stream and hill-bound shore; To lay aside the dirty pen For summer's blue and golden store 'Neath other skies, 'mid stranger men! Then let the rover's call prevail That opes for us the enchanted door, That bids us spread the silken sail For bays o'er which the seabirds soar, And foam-flecked rollers pitch and roar, Where nymph maybe, and mermaiden, Come beachward in the moon-rise hoar, 'Neath other skies, 'mid stranger men! Blue-eyed Calypsos, Circes pale (The sage who shuns them I abhor), These—for a fortnight—shall not fail To thrill the heart's susceptive core, To bind us with their ancient lore, Who rather like to listen when Sweet-lipped the sirens voice their score, 'Neath other skies, 'mid stranger men! ENVOY Masters, who seek the minted ore, It's only August now and then, Ah, take the Wanderer's way once more, 'Neath other skies, 'mid stranger men! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE MINSTREL BOY by THOMAS MOORE BALLAD OF HECTOR IN HADES by EDWIN MUIR THE INNER VISION by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH OF GENERAL GOURAUD by ROBERTA BALFOUR THE YOUNG THAT DIED IN BEAUTY by WILLIAM BARNES THE FIRST BUD O' THE YEAR by CHARLES GRANGER BLANDEN THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 49. FAREWELL TO JULIET (11) by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |