Classic Poem

Far over seas an island is
Whereon when day is done
A grove of tossing palms
Are printed on the sun.
And all about the reefy shore
Blue breakers flash and fall.
There shall I go, methinks,
When I am done with all.

Have I no castle then in Spain,
No island of the mind,
Where I can turn and go again
When life shall prove unkind?
Up, sluggard soul! and far from here
Our mountain forest seek;
Or nigh enchanted island, steer
Down the desired creek.