Page:Three Plays Sunderland Hills.pdf/196

Rh What waits us, once our goal attain'd? For each one as I deem The utter realising of his every dearest dream. I think that as our wave-worn ship drops anchor in that bay A honey-colour'd harvest-moon will mock the paler day Lighting the league-long gardens up, whose hidden hollows hold The ruddy glow of oranges, the citron's paler gold, Whilst,sunder'd half a life-time long by some untoward fate Lost lovers wait to welcome us to Island Fortunate.

Our company grows still the less, for certain of our train A seeming Eldorado once gleam'd golden from the main, I think that on that barren reef some specious magic burn'd,