“The wealth of the earth and the sun shall be ours,
We shall know neither pride nor shame
Nor ever grow weary of too much romance
Nor spoil our sweet isle with a name.
And no one shall find our rendezvous,
No world break the spell with its blare,
For that will be Heaven—just you and I,
With no one to part us or care.
Somewhere!”
I submit this poem for what it is worth. The meter undoubtedly might be improved. Yet it shows the way the lad’s mind was leaning, the romancer, the idealist, the colorist, the emotionalist, always.