Toggle Dropdown Serif Sans-serif Monospaced Dyslexic Bold Italic Font size: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 Mark as read [object Object] Only page of title 171 7 Fairly Easy Oh, come with me to the Happy Isles In the golden haze off yonder, Where the song of the sun-kissed breeze beguiles, And the ocean loves to wander. Fragrant the vines that mantle those hills, Proudly the fig rejoices; Merrily dance the virgin rills, Blending their myriad voices. Our herds shall fear no evil there, But peacefully feed and rest them; Neither shall serpent nor prowling bear Ever come there to molest them. Neither shall Eurus, wanton bold, Nor feverish drouth distress us, But he that compasseth heat and cold Shall temper them both to bless us. There no vandal foot has trod, And the pirate hosts that wander Shall never profane the sacred sod Of those beautiful Isles out yonder. Never a spell shall blight our vines, Nor Sirius blaze above us, But you and I shall drink our wines And sing to the loved that love us. So come with me where Fortune smiles And the gods invite devotion, -- Oh, come with me to the Happy Isles In the haze of that far-off ocean! End of title Sign in to unlock this title Sign in to continue reading, it's free! As an unregistered user you can only read a little bit. Links External resources bookshop Wikipedia Project Gutenberg Goodreads Google Books
Oh, come with me to the Happy Isles In the golden haze off yonder, Where the song of the sun-kissed breeze beguiles, And the ocean loves to wander.
Fragrant the vines that mantle those hills, Proudly the fig rejoices; Merrily dance the virgin rills, Blending their myriad voices.
Our herds shall fear no evil there, But peacefully feed and rest them; Neither shall serpent nor prowling bear Ever come there to molest them.
Neither shall Eurus, wanton bold, Nor feverish drouth distress us, But he that compasseth heat and cold Shall temper them both to bless us.
There no vandal foot has trod, And the pirate hosts that wander Shall never profane the sacred sod Of those beautiful Isles out yonder.
Never a spell shall blight our vines, Nor Sirius blaze above us, But you and I shall drink our wines And sing to the loved that love us.
So come with me where Fortune smiles And the gods invite devotion, -- Oh, come with me to the Happy Isles In the haze of that far-off ocean!