You sail and you seek for the Fortunate Isles,
The old Greek Isles of the yellow bird’s song?
Then steer straight on through the watery miles,
Straight on, straight on and you can’t go wrong.
Nay not to the left, nay not to the right,
But on, straight on, and the Isles are in sight,
The Fortunate Isles where the yellow birds sing
And life lies girt with a golden ring.
These Fortunate Isles they are not so far,
They lie within reach of the lowliest door;