The sea was sapphire coloured, and the sky <br />Burned like a heated opal through the air; <br />We hoisted sail; the wind was blowing fair <br />For the blue lands that to the eastward lie. <br />From the steep prow I marked with quickening eye <br />Zakynthos, every olive grove and creek, <br />Ithaca's cliff, Lycaon's snowy peak, <br />And all the flower-strewn hills of Arcady. <br />The flapping of the sail against the mast, <br />The ripple of the water on the side, <br />The ripple of girls' laughter at the stern, <br />The only sounds:- when 'gan the West to burn, <br />And a red sun upon the seas to ride, <br />I stood upon the soil of Greece at last!<br /><br />Oscar Wilde<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/impression-de-voyage/
