In Paradise there is a sea
Blue as the turkis stone,
And many passing wonders be
Hid in its depths alone;
But seen of all the folk of neighbour land,
Whose quiet feet do walk the yellow strand.
And since that shore is void of man
No sail about it flies,
But hundred-hued Leviathan
Like a prone rainbow lies,
And looketh on the weaving waters wan
With stilly emerald eyes.
And though no sail move on the deep
As calm as any mere,
A radiant folk, who may not weep,
Without a sail do steer,
And very pleasant ways and winding keep
Above the solemn clear.
Par miracle, I once did go
And stood upon the shore;
A gemmy archipelago
The gemmy waters bore,
And all those sprites that are unchained of woe
Do dwell there evermore.
Like to the summer leaves that make
A little whispering,
These folk that dwellen in the lake
Full fairly say and sing,
As waters blown at night, that wake
With a sweet murmuring.
1916.