On the ocean that hollows the rocks where ye dwell, A shadowy land has appeared, as they tell; Men thought it a region of sunshine and rest, And they called it Hy-Brasail, the isle of the blest. From year unto year on the ocean's blue rim, The beautiful spectre showed lovely and dim: The golden clouds curtained the deep where it lay, And it looked like an Eden, away, far away! A peasant, who heard of the wonderful tale, In the breeze of the Orient loosened his sail; From Ara, the holy, he turned to the West, For though Ara was holy, Hy-Brasail was blest. He heard not the voices that called from the shore-- He heard not the rising wind's menacing roar; Home, kindred, and safety, he left on that day, And he sped to Hy-Brasail, away, far away. Morn rose on the deep, and that shadowy isle, O'er the faint rim of distance, reflected its smile; Noon burned on the wave, and that shadowy shore Seemed lovelily distant, and faint as before; Lone evening came down on the wan'derer's track, And to Ara again he looked timidly back: O! far on the verge of the ocean it lay, Yet the isle of the blest was away, far away! Rash dreamer, return! O ye winds of the main, Bear him back to his own peaceful Ara again. Rash fool! for a vision of fanciful bliss To barter thy calm life of labour and peace. The warning of reason was spoken in vain, He never revisited Ara again! Night fell on the deep, amidst tempest and spray, And he died on the waters, away far away. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: JOHN CABANIS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS OCTAVES: 7 by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON THE DEEPER THOUGHT by MATTHEW ARNOLD UPON JULIA'S VOICE by ROBERT HERRICK MY FLOWERS by PIERRE JEAN DE BERANGER NOT UNDERSTOOD by THOMAS BRACKEN THE BLACK FOX OF SALMON RIVER by JOHN GARDINER CALKINS BRAINARD A TALE OF VILLAFRANCA; TOLD IN TUSCANY by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING |