THE PORT O’ DREAMS.
It is just beyond the sky-line
With its poppy-fields of rest
Where day’s storm-bewildered shallop
Drops its anchor in the west,
Where a silent sea of saffron
Stretches inland toward the streams
That go glimmering down the valleys
Of the purple port o’ dreams.
In the far-off gloom behind it
Earth’s dusky bound’ry lies,
And a step beyond its outpost
The hills of heaven rise;
So near that in the glory
Of their mystic haze it seems
That the dear dead walk beside us
In the peaceful port o’ dreams.
Oh, strange and wondrous country.
Hiding close the goals of life,
Who wins to thee brings courage
For the long, dull march’s strife,
And the prisoner of living
Hope’s freedom pledge redeems
In thine endless, boundless radiance.
Oh, blissful port o’ dreams.
We have called thee Heart’s Desire,
Or the Island of the Blest,
And the Land of Finished Stories,
Oh, dreamland in the west.
Yet every heart’s the bound’ry
Of thy soul-reposing beams—
Art thou hope or love or heaven,
Oh, happy port o’ dreams?
Sail away, oh, weary-hearted,
To the bayous of release,
Leave the drums o’ life behind you
At the harbor bar of peace.
Come to anchor off the headlands
Where the light of heaven gleams
In the haven where ye would be
Past the purple port o’ dreams.
Army and Navy Journal.