Too fairy-light of keel, and swift of sail
To bide the winds and currents of the world,
At last good-by to fickle wave and gale!
Thy bark steers free, with all her wings unfurled,
Into the happy deeps through foam-wreaths curled!
Thought, like a seraph, radiant at the peak,
Leans seaward through the shower of diamond spray
Tossed in light scorn from off the shallop's beak,
And at the helm Instinct, the pilot gray,
Guiding to golden islands of the day.
Speed on, bright sail, into the happy seas,
While vainly on the utmost line of strand
We wait to catch some faint breath of the breeze
That blows on thee from the enchanted land!