Whither away should lovers stray from the Island of Honeymoon?"
"O far away in the dying day, and farther away," she cried,
"Ere the glory of gold has faded yet or the passion of rose-red died,
O far away from the happier present visit the happy past,
Though never shall our ghostly sails die down the shadowy mast:
For we will flit by the twilight land and name the places fair,
But set no foot on the shore," she cried, "nor drop the anchor there:
But under the night with so swift a flight that the keel is singing in tune,
Back, haste back on the starry track to the Island of Honeymoon!"