I know an isle in the desert sea,
Where many a time I long to be.
Like a child in its mother's lap it lies,
Basking beneath the tropic skies;
While the fondling waves that round it creep
Seem hushing the innocent to sleep:
And nothing is there to break its rest;
Only the breeze from the sighing West
Comes lifting among its shrubs and weaves
A whispering spirit through its leaves.
O never comes summer with its steady breeze
And sunny skies, but the deep blue seas
Come over my heart, and sweep away
All love of this world and our worky day!
And needless seems the work we do
When we lose the end we work unto;--
I grow idle and dreamy, and long to be
Afar on this isle of the desert sea.
Ah, what a lone desire is this!
No one is there to share the bliss
That dwells amid the loneliness!
No living soul hath touch'd its sod--
No being there, save our lonely God!
A place where a silent God may brood,
Unknown in the ocean's solitude.
Great God! what loneliness to be
As Thou art! O, no one with Thee
To speak an equal mind! Alone
From first--and to be aye unknown!--
Such loneliness would wither up
Our souls, like autumn leaves, and stop
The growth that seems to grow to Thee;
And like the autumn leaves we'd bee
Withdrawn by wearisome decay,
And all unnoted waste away!
We are not meant for such a life;
Are born, and must be bred, in strife;
Trusting the end may come to good,
Though now so dimly understood.
Sleep on, then, in sunshine and calm,
Sweet Isle, I would be where I am.
