'TWAS the dream of a God, And the mould of His hand, That you shook 'neath His stroke, That you trembled and broke To this beautiful land. Here He loosed from His hold A brown tumult of wings, Till the wind on the sea Bore the strange melody Of an island that sings. He made you all fair, You in purple and gold, You in silver and green, Till no eye that has seen Without love can behold. I have left you behind In the path of the past, With the white breath of flowers, With the best of God's hours, I have left you at last. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SCHOOLS OF LITTLE FISH by MARVIN BELL ON LADY POLTAGRUE: A PUBLIC PERIL by HILAIRE BELLOC THE LOON ON FORRESTER'S POND by HAYDEN CARRUTH ABOVE HALF MOON by JAMES GALVIN SPECIAL EFFECTS by JAMES GALVIN TIRED by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON |