Here the spirit of Beauty keepeth <br />Jubilee for evermore; <br />Here the voice of Gladness leapeth, <br />Echoing from shore to shore. <br />O'er the hidden watery valley, <br />O'er each buried wood and glade, <br />Dances our delighted galley, <br />Through the sunlight and the shade; <br />Dances o'er the granite cells, <br />Where the soul of Beauty dwells; <br /> <br />Here the flowers are ever springing, <br />While the summer breezes blow; <br />Here the Hours are ever clinging, <br />Loitering before they go; <br />Playing round each beauteous islet, <br />Loath to leave the sunny shore, <br />Where, upon her couch of violet, <br />Beauty sits for evermore; <br />Sits and smiles by day and night, <br />Hand in hand with pure Delight. <br /> <br />Here the spirit of Beauty dwelleth <br />In each palpitating tree, <br />In each amber wave that welleth <br />From its home beneath the sea; <br />In the moss upon the granite <br />In each calm, secluded bay, <br />With the zephyr trains that fan it <br />With their sweet breaths all the day– <br />On the waters, on the shore, <br />Beauty dwelleth evermore!<br /><br />Charles Sangster<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/lyric-to-the-isles/
