Page:Three Plays Sunderland Hills.pdf/193

Rh

So farewell, For I withdraw me to my island home.

You pass, you leave us?

Yonder lies my barque, Twinning herself upon the crystal tide, So clear so sharp her mere reflection. You wonder which is shadow, and which is ship, If both be real or both a fantasy Moulded of magic this mid-August eve, And I must pass upon that galley of dream To my fair island of unfading May Set in a sea of sempiternal Spring. Follow me, find me, thro' the ivory gate Lies the way thither, to the happy land, The fortunate isle where the dearest dream comes true!