The star-filled seas are smooth to-night <br />From France to England strown; <br />Black towers above the Portland light <br />The felon-quarried stone. <br /> <br />On yonder island, not to rise, <br />Never to stir forth free, <br />Far from his folk a dead lad lies <br />That once was friends with me. <br /> <br />Lie you easy, dream you light, <br />And sleep you fast for aye; <br />And luckier may you find the night <br />Than ever you found the day.<br /><br />Alfred Edward Housman<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-isle-of-portland/
