Does the wind sing in your ears at night, in the town, <br /> Rattling the windows and doors of the cheap-built place? <br />Do you hear its song as it flies over marsh and down? <br /> Do you feel the kiss that the wind leaves here on my face? <br />Or, wrapt in a lamplit quiet, do you restrain <br /> Thoughts that would take the wind's way hither to me, <br />And bid them rest safe-anchored, nor tempt again <br /> The tumult, and torment, and passion that live in the sea? <br /> <br />I, for my part, when the wind sings loud in its might, <br /> I bid it hush---nor awaken again the storm <br />That swept my heart out to sea on a moonless night, <br /> And dashed it ashore on an island wondrous and warm <br />Where all things fair and forbidden for ever flower, <br /> Where the worst of life is a dream, and the best comes true, <br />Where the harvest of years was reaped in a single hour <br /> And the gods, for once, were honest with me and you. <br /> <br />I will not hear when the wind and the sea cry out, <br /> I will not trust again to the hurrying wind, <br />I will not swim again in a sea of doubt, <br /> And reach that shore with the world left well behind; <br />But you,---I would have you listen to every call <br /> Of the changing wind, as it blows over marsh and main, <br />And heap life's joys in your hands, and offer them all, <br /> If only your feet might touch that island again!<br /><br />Edith Nesbit<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-island/
