Explore "Silverpoints" by John Gray on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Bird-like, my heart was glad to soar and vault; / Fluttering among the cordages; and on / The vessel flew, under an empty vault: / An angel drunken of a radiant sun.
Tell me, what is that gray, that sombre isle? / 'Tis Cythera, famed on many a poet string; / A name that has not lacked the slavering smile; / But now, you see, it is not much to sing.