Dear friend, how blest, if passed my life could be
In that fair isle, with God alone and thee,
Far from the world, from man and fiend secure,
No guilt to harm us, and no vice to lure!
Bright round the virgin’s shrine would blush and bloom
That world of flowers, which pour such rich perfume;
And sweet yon caves repeat with mellowing swell
Eve’s closing hymn, when chimed the vesper-bell.”
The pilot heard—“Oh! spring of life,” he cried,
“How bright and beauteous seems the world untried!