A FLOATING, a floating <br />Across the sleeping sea, <br />All night I heard a singing bird <br />Upon the topmast tree. <br /> <br />“Oh, came you from the isles of Greece <br />Or from the banks of Seine; <br />Or off some tree in forests free, <br />Which fringe the western main?” <br /> <br />“I came not off the old world <br />Nor yet from off the new— <br />But I am one of the birds of God <br />Which sing the whole night through.” <br /> <br />“Oh, sing and wake the dawning— <br />Oh, whistle for the wind; <br />The night is long, the current strong, <br />My boat it lags behind.” <br /> <br />“The current sweeps the old world, <br />The current sweeps the new; <br />The wind will blow, the dawn will glow, <br />Ere thou hast sail’d them through.”<br /><br />Charles Kingsley<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-myth/
