I should like to rise and go <br />Where the golden apples grow;-- <br />Where below another sky <br />Parrot islands anchored lie, <br />And, watched by cockatoos and goats, <br />Lonely Crusoes building boats;-- <br />Where in sunshine reaching out <br />Eastern cities, miles about, <br />Are with mosque and minaret <br />Among sandy gardens set, <br />And the rich goods from near and far <br />Hang for sale in the bazaar;-- <br />Where the Great Wall round China goes, <br />And on one side the desert blows, <br />And with the voice and bell and drum, <br />Cities on the other hum;-- <br />Where are forests hot as fire, <br />Wide as England, tall as a spire, <br />Full of apes and cocoa-nuts <br />And the negro hunters' huts;-- <br />Where the knotty crocodile <br />Lies and blinks in the Nile, <br />And the red flamingo flies <br />Hunting fish before his eyes;-- <br />Where in jungles near and far, <br />Man-devouring tigers are, <br />Lying close and giving ear <br />Lest the hunt be drawing near, <br />Or a comer-by be seen <br />Swinging in the palanquin;-- <br />Where among the desert sands <br />Some deserted city stands, <br />All its children, sweep and prince, <br />Grown to manhood ages since, <br />Not a foot in street or house, <br />Not a stir of child or mouse, <br />And when kindly falls the night, <br />In all the town no spark of light. <br />There I'll come when I'm a man <br />With a camel caravan; <br />Light a fire in the gloom <br />Of some dusty dining-room; <br />See the pictures on the walls, <br />Heroes fights and festivals; <br />And in a corner find the toys <br />Of the old Egyptian boys.<br /><br />Robert Louis Stevenson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/travel/
