Orchard and Vineyard

by V. Sackville-West

And you would sail before the wind,
—Elusive wind, delusive wind,—
All radiant on your moonlit deck,
And not a moment would you reck
Of me whom you had left behind.

You’d come to legendary coasts,
To nameless coasts, to tameless coasts,
And hear of unimagined things:
The exploits of vainglorious kings,
Their fabled pride, and braggart boasts;

Iris you’d meet, and Mercury,
Sweet Mercury, fleet Mercury;
You’d see the constellations change,
You’d pass the magnet mountain-range
That draws a ship to mystery;

You’d see, on black basaltic rocks,
On jaggèd rocks, on craggèd rocks,
The lonely Polyphemus stand,
The scourge and terror of the land,
Amongst his decimated flocks.

You’d turn from thence; a rainbow arc,
A magic arc, a tragic arc,
That spanned the sky from east to west
Might lure you on a dreamer’s quest
And close for ever on your barque.

Ah God! perhaps this very night,
This hated night, this fated night,
You heard the breeze, the sirens’ spell....
I faint, I look; your caravel
In harbour still lies gold and white.

SONGS OF FANCY: II

SING of enchanted palaces
In Tripoli, in Tripoli,
Above the sighing and the surge
Of the moaning sea, of the slothful sea;
Of palaces upon the verge
Of the sleepy sea, of the sleepy sea.

Sing of enchanted palaces
In Venice by the broad lagoons
Of long ago, of long ago,
Where cupolas like cuspèd moons
In waters dim reflected glow,
And ghosts of stately frigatoons
In dusky waters come and go.