There is an isle beyond our ken, Haunted by Dreams of weary men. Grey Hopes enshadow it with wings Weary with burdens of old things: There the insatiate water-springs Rise with the tears of all who weep: And deep within it, deep, oh deep The furtive voice of Sorrow sings. There evermore, Till Time be o'er, Sad, oh so sad, the Dreams of men Drift through the isle beyond our ken. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...READY TO KILL by CARL SANDBURG THE WORN WEDDING-RING by WILLIAM COX BENNETT LEISURE by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES ODES: BOOK 1: ODE 7. ON THE USE OF POETRY by MARK AKENSIDE THE YELLOW BADGE by RUTH SCHECHTER ALEXANDER THE REASON by LEONARD BACON (1887-1954) THE HORSE AND HIS RIDER by JOANNA BAILLIE |