WAY over the seas, in a far, far land, Where skies are blue and gold; Where ripples break on a silver sand, And sunbeams ne'er grow old; There's a dale where Cupid dwells, they say, And 'tis there that he rests from his frolic play. Oh, there's many a lass and many a swain That knows of his shafts made there; For Cupid spares naught of a deep heart-pain, Though love be all his care. And I think he should make a reflection or two, When he rests over there from his play. Don't you? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AFTER TWO YEARS by RICHARD ALDINGTON DOWN THE BROOK by ROBERT FROST ONE FAVORED ACORN by ROBERT FROST |