The Enviable Isles - Poem by Herman Melville
Through storms you reach them and from
storms are free.
Afar descried, the foremost drear in hue,
But, nearer, green; and, on the marge, the sea
Makes thunder low and mist of rainbowed
But, inland, where the sleep that folds the hills
A dreamier sleep, the trance of God, instills--
On uplands hazed, in wandering airs
Slow-swaying palms salute love's cypress tree
Adown in vale where pebbly runlets croon
A song to lull all sorrow and all glee.
Sweet-fern and moss in many a glade are here.
Where, strewn in flocks, what cheek-flushed
Dimpling in dream--unconscious slumberers
While billows endless round the beaches die.
Comments about The Enviable Isles by Herman Melville
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.